Dark of the Night
by jennycaakes
Summary: AU: District 12 has been overrun by those who should be dead, yet aren't. Where do they go next? How do they fight off this combination of Muttation and human without losing their own humanity in the process? Is anywhere safe? Madge's POV. "Don't worry, Madge," the little girl says. "The zombies can't get us here." Cover Image made by S. Lily Potter
1. Camp

_**Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to THG trilogy and have not been created by me. All I own is the storyline, which is extremely AU.**_

_**Furthermore - This is not a happy story.**_

_**Rated T for violence and use of language. Nothing too graphic, yet the world has ended so there's obviously going to be some harsher dialogue at times. **_

_**Timeline: Takes place in Catching Fire, after Gale's whipping and the announcement of the Quarter Quell, but before the Quell actually takes place. So about summer in Panem.**_

* * *

The crackle of the firewood is all I can focus on right now. The steady sizzle of wood and coal. Too much has happened today. Yesterday. Too much.

Everyone around me knows this. Maybe the fire is all that they have to listen to as well. It's better than the moaning. Not that we can hear the moaning out here in the woods, but sometimes I think I can. The images still haunt my mind, along with the noises. I try to tune them out. I really do. But it's quiet out here, and my thoughts are empty.

Katniss and Peeta are around here somewhere setting up watch assignments. Despite being in the woods there's still the chance one of them will wander onto camp. We need people keeping guard. Delly and her younger brother are already asleep. I wish I could sleep. I don't think I've slept in a very long time.

"Madge," Peeta nudges me with his elbow, lowering himself onto the log next to me. He's appeared out of nowhere. Or maybe he's been here the entire time. I've been too focused on the flames, trying my hardest not to let anything else intrude my thoughts. "Who've you been staying with?" he asks me. My mother has turned into one of them. My father, too, probably. They're not here. I shrug. "Who did you stay with last night?"

"We didn't have sleeping arrangements last night," I tell him. We had only just got here, got everyone calmed down. I slept in an empty spot under a tree.

He sighs and rubs at his forehead. He's tired, too. "How about you stay with Taftan and Proja?" Peeta asks. I lift an eyebrow at him. His brothers? "I'm staying with Katniss tonight," he tells me. "We're taking a shift on watch."

"I don't want to burden your brothers," I tell him. Peeta's parents didn't make it out of 12 either. I'm not sure if they became one of _them_ or not. Neither is Peeta. We don't talk about it. "I can just stay by myself."

"They said it was fine," Peeta reassures me. His hand gently rests on my shoulder. "We're over by the lake." I nod as he stands and offers his hand. "It's only temporary, Madge. We're working on what to do next."

"I know," I say. But what is there to do next when the end of the world is already upon us?

Peeta leads me down to the lake to where his brothers are playing a game of cards by lantern light. They smile as I arrive just as they always had when I would enter the bakery. I've known Peeta long enough to consider his brothers my own, mostly. Taftan pats the sleeping bag next to his and I wordlessly lower myself down to it. It must be where Peeta had slept last night.

"I'll see you guys in the morning," Peeta says.

"Don't overwork yourself," Proja tells him. "Remember that you need to sleep too." Peeta nods and walks away, and then both of his brothers roll their eyes. I drop my head down to a makeshift pillow and stare up at the stars. I never could see them from my house in town. "What do you think they're going to do?" Proja whispers. Taftan shrugs, laying down another card. I wish the stars were this bright at home. I wish I was home. "Set up a team to clear out the District?"

"I don't think we should go back," Taftan intones. "There're too many of _them_. It's not safe." He shudders and then readjusts how he sits, trying to make it look like he hadn't winced at all. I roll on my side and face away from the two brothers. "If we clear the place out and move back in like nothing happened then the Capitol will just come and take over again."

Proja grunts, slamming down a card. My eyes drift shut. Maybe I will sleep tonight. "Would you rather us live like animals out here?" he asks his brother.

Taftan drags his fingers through his hair. "Which is safer?" he asks.

"Neither," Proja responds. "In the District and out here in the woods we're just meals waiting to be eaten." I shiver and bury my head in my arms. "Sorry, Madge," he calls out, clearly noticing my response to his words. I don't reply. I wish I was back by the fire listening to the crackle and sizzle. Even the crickets out here aren't loud enough to fill my thoughts.

* * *

Taftan wakes me up at the crack of dawn, stops me from screaming and waking everyone else up. I throw my arms around him and cling as though he's a life vest and I'm stuck out at sea. "It was just a dream," he tells me. But it wasn't just a dream. I apologize for waking him up. He apologizes for talking about _them_ last night. "Do you want to get some more sleep?" he asks. Proja's still out like a light, drooling onto his pillow. I shake my head. "Me neither," he says.

He stands up and extends his hand, helping me up as well. "Where are we going?" I ask. My voice is raw and rough. Scratchy. I could use a drink but I won't ask for one.

Other people are already milling around the camp. I'm surprised at how quiet they're all being for the ones who still sleep. We walk in silence toward a small gathering of people. When we reach the crowd they part for us. Prim spots me and rushes over, holding out her hands. A few apples. We don't even need to exchange words. I take them gratefully. Breakfast.

Katniss is nearby whispering something to Peeta who looks pale, but nods. He needs sleep. Katniss, too. Just because they're our latest Victors doesn't mean the entire District should have to rely on them. Haymitch is nearby as well, the trio sticking together in these desperate times. I want to go over to all of them, tell them to go to bed. Tuck them in. Stand watch until they do so. I'm just not strong enough.

I stare at them a few more moments before biting into an apple. Taftan has moved away, talking to a group of people nearby that he knew back inside the District. I force pieces of the fruit down my mouth and keep to myself. Suddenly someone is tugging on my skirt. I look down and find the curious eyes of a little girl who looks vastly familiar.

"You look sad," she says to me. "My name's Posy."

"Hi Posy," I say, dropping down to a knee. "My name's Madge." I look at the apples in my hand. I only need one. "Have you had breakfast yet?" She shakes her head no, brown locks of hair tumbling in every direction. "Here, take one of mine," I tell her. She smiles brightly, accepting the fruit gratefully.

"Are you sad?" she asks me through a mouthful. I blink a few times, trying to work out where I've seen her before. Everyone looks out of place out here in the woods. "Were your mommy and daddy eaten too?"

"You can't ask people that, Pose," a little voice says. I turn and find Rory Hawthorne dropping down onto the ground next to his sister. Ah, this must be Gale's sister. I knew I had seen her before. "Where'd you get that apple?"

"Madge gave it to me," Posy tells him through another mouthful.

Rory frowns, extending his hand to me and giving me one of _his_ apples. "Here," he says, forcing it onto my palm. "We have plenty. Gale made sure of that." I smile, trying to show that I'm glad his brother is taking care of them. I don't think that message is delivered, though. Rory munches on his fruit, letting his eyes stray over to Prim once or twice. "Sorry about Posy," he tells me. "She doesn't really get it."

"It's alright," I say, lifting my shoulders as best I can.

The Hawthorne family is just as complete as it was before the attack. I'm glad Posy hasn't had to lose anyone.

Posy finishes her apple and pulls the stem off of it. "Don't worry, Madge," the little girl says. "The zombies can't get us here."

"Posy," Rory scolds her again. "What did Gale say?"

"Gale said not to call them that," Posy answers him, "but Vick calls them zombies so why can't I?"

I wince without meaning to, squeezing my eyes shut and forcing her words from her system. That's exactly what they are. Brainless. Dead, yet still walking around. Hungry. Unthinking. Cold. Mutts? Zombies.

"Sorry," Rory murmurs again. "C'mon, Posy," he pulls the little girl to her feet. "Gale wants to see us before he goes on the run. You want to see him?" Posy nods ferociously, her hair toppling in every which way. "Let's go, then." The two start off toward their camp and Posy giggles, waving over her shoulder at me. Rory offers a sad smile. Of course he knows what happened to my family. Everyone does.

We were the first.

A hand on my shoulder startles me and I jump, freezing and taking a deep breath when I realize it's only Taftan. "Sorry," he says instantly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"S'okay," I squeak out. He helps me to my feet like Rory had with his sister and then guides me back to where our sleeping things are.

By then Proja has awoken, rubbing at his eyes and yawning as wide as he can. Taftan passes him a few apples, apparently everyone's breakfast today, and then trudges to the lake to fill up some water bottles. Proja rests back at camp, chewing on his fruit and staring up at the clouds.

"How's the camp?" he asks me.

"Alright, I suppose," I respond. "I think there are some people going into the District today." That's what Rory said, right? Going on a run. A snare run wouldn't require a big farewell. "I'm not sure, though." It's not like anyone would tell me if that's what was happening. I can't go back there, I'm of no use. "Taftan might know."

"Supplies?" Proja wonders.

I nod. What else? More blankets so we can rest easy. More food so we don't have to eat apples for the rest of our existence. Weapons too, probably. To fight _them_ off. And more clothing as well. I wonder if we'll be spending the rest of our lives in the woods right outside the District. Even that place will run out of provisions sooner or later.

"Maybe I'll go," Proja says, finishing off his apple. "If we time things alright Taftan and I could bake some bread to bring out here. We'd just need people to cover our backs."

"Maybe."

He drops the subject. When Taftan returns Proja rattles off the same suggestion he made to me, only his older brother is a bit more accepting of the idea than I was. I pull my hair out of the ribbon I've tied it up in and run my fingers through it. Greasy. I wish I could bathe. I hope that whoever goes into the District brings back some soap, but that's a bit farfetched and I know it. The life of the high and mighty is gone. I'm no longer the mayor's daughter. I'm no longer anyone's daughter.

* * *

Taftan and Proja both go on the run into the District, alongside a group of boys who consider themselves fast and clever. Gale is among them. I let my eyes linger as they say their goodbyes. Taftan and Proja both ruffle my hair and tell me they'll be back. I can only nod and cross my fingers.

I decide to spend the day washing clothes with a group of other people. Of course I'm not one of them; I just station myself near them. It makes me feel as though I'm part of a group, though I know they all look at me distastefully. I don't blame them.

I can't help but wonder where Delly is. I wonder if she would join me if she knew I was washing clothes. Perhaps her younger brother went on the run into town. It looked like a group of both boys from town and Seam. I find it lovely how now that the world is over we've gotten over our differences. Let's just hope it lasts.

As I ring out one of Proja's shirts, methodically trying to get out a coal stain he must've acquired on his escape out of the District, a little girl makes her way next to me.

"Hi Madge," she giggles. I turn, finding Posy Hawthorne by my side. "Whatcha doing?"

"I'm cleaning this shirt," I tell her. She nods and stares at it as I hold it up. And then she giggles again. I can't help but smile. "What's so silly?"

"That shirt is too big for you!"

I laugh softly. "It's not mine, Posy, I'm washing it for a friend." The thought of me wearing Proja's shirt leaves the smile imprinted on my face. Yes, much too big. "Where's your mom?" I ask her, only to have the question answered seconds later when Hazelle stations herself next to me. "Oh, hi Mrs. Hawthorne."

"I've told you, Madge," the woman sighs, "call me Hazelle." Must be in my hardwiring to add _Mrs_. or _Mr._ to everyone's name. "Is it alright if I sit here?" I nod instantly, welcoming any type of human interaction. Posy leaps across the stream and starts splashing a bit out of the way. "I told her she could come with me as long as she behaved," Hazelle says with a smile. "I'm trying to keep her preoccupied."

I can understand that. I like to be preoccupied as well. "How is everyone?" I ask her.

"The kids are all fine," Hazelle answers gently, dipping down a shirt into the water. It must be Gale's, it's too large to be Vick or Rory's. "Rory's the only one that really understands what's going on. Vick and Posy just kind of make light of it."

I hesitate. I know I shouldn't ask, but I do anyway. "And Gale?"

"Happy to get out of the mines," she mutters, though still smiling. "I don't think this is the revolution he wanted."

"I don't think this is the revolution any of us wanted."

Hazelle laughs, "Right you are with that one." I smile slightly, returning to work on Proja's shirt. It'd be a lot easier to get out this dumb stain if I had some _soap_. "How've you been, Madge?" Hazelle isn't a fan of the silence. I wonder if her thoughts stray much like mine do. "We haven't gotten to talk since the night I thanked you for bringing Gale's medicine."

I swallow back the memory. That night feels infinitely far away from this moment. Years, when really it was only months.

"I'm holding up." Holding myself together with tape and glue and paper clips and rubber bands and anything sticky that will keep me in one piece.

She sighs, ringing out the shirt in her hands. "I hate to ask," she says quietly, glancing toward the girls a bit up the stream from me to make sure they aren't listening. "I do. I'm not one for gossip. I just want to know…"

"The rumors are true," I answer.

I have no reason to lie to Hazelle. She's always been kind to me. I shake out Proja's shirt, listening to it crack as it straightens out. The stain isn't gone but this is the best I can do without any soap.

She flinches at the noise and wrinkles her eyebrows. "Madge, dear, I'm so terribly sorry—" she starts, but I won't have any of it. I don't want people apologizing to me. If anything, I should be apologizing to them. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of me. "You must know that this isn't your fault," Hazelle continues.

"But isn't it?" I ask.

"No, Madge, honey," Hazelle reaches over to place her hand on my shoulder but I shrink away. I'm not ready for human contact. Conversation will have to be enough for now. She frowns. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I shouldn't have asked."

"You had a right to know," I say back. Before she can say anything else I start on my next shirt, letting it splash obnoxiously loud into the water. Posy giggles at the nose. Hazelle just looks more concerned. We spend the rest of the afternoon in silence.

* * *

_My father frowned as I made my way back inside, shaking off the snow and letting it fall to the ground by the door. It wasn't my fault that it was snowing outside. I didn't ask for a blizzard. He took my coat and hung it on the wall before I could even get a word in._

"_Where were you?" he asked. "I was worried out of my mind, Madge."_

"_I took Gale some medicine," I answered quickly. I knew he didn't like it when I was outside. I knew he didn't like me around other people. Not at that time. "Some morphling. Mom hasn't been needing it and he did so I—"_

"_It's alright," he had said, letting his face fill with relief. "Not to the square, though?"_

"_No." Too many people. I wasn't to be around too many people._

_But Gale had been whipped, and that was an emergency. I wasn't going to let him die because of things he couldn't control._

"_Good," he nodded. My father helped me untie my shoes and set them by the door. He locked it. Didn't want anyone coming in, didn't want anyone going out. "Have you heard anything about it?" he asked. Not whippings. Not the brute force of the new head peacekeeper Thread. Something else entirely._

"_No, Daddy," I told him. And honestly, I hadn't. I had never been one for conversing with others, and learning about the strange sickness wasn't high on my to-do list. "Have you?"_

"_Yes. It's spreading," he answered quietly._

_I watched as he furrowed his brow, feeling the weight of the entire situation on his own shoulders. I felt it too, just not as heavily as he did._

"_And Mom?" I asked._

"_Still breathing," he said. "Her fever is getting worse, though." I drummed my fingers on the staircase where I was sitting, trying not to think about the sickness that was destroying my mother. First headaches, now this. "I informed the Capitol but they've yet to reply." And why should we have expected them to reply? They were the ones that sent it along with their own people._

_We noticed my mother falling ill days after the Capitol citizens left when the Victory tour was over. We knew it came from them. Many of them had coughs of their own during the harvest festival, many of them were sick with the virus before we realized what it really was. It got mother first. Then our maid. Our butler. Daddy and I were the only ones still healthy at that time, though somehow the sickness had managed to weasel its way into the District._

_People from town. People from the Seam. It looked like an ordinary fever but we knew better. We should've said something. We didn't know what it would do to them._

"_Do you think she'll get better?" I asked._

_He frowned. "No, Madge," my father said. "I don't." And she didn't. She was the first._

* * *

_A/N: Zombies are my specialty, tbh, and I've always wanted to write a fic centered around them. Not much gadge yet but it will happen, I promise. The unanswered questions will be answered in the upcoming chapters. This fic will be updated sporadically. I've missed first person so I've resorted back to Madge. I always liked writing from her POV! I also love the Mellark brothers, and wanted to bring them into this story for a little bit. What do you think? Any theories yet? I mean a bit of it is obvious, just not all. This is vastly AU. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are always welcome!_


	2. Stream

By the time everyone from the run gets back to camp it's nearly nightfall.

Instead of the usual crackling of the fire I find myself surrounded by the cheers of those around me. Tonight, everyone is celebrating. We have more food. As many fresh things as they could find that we'll get to eat right away. Lots of cans. And more blankets. Actual pillows instead of old sweatshirts lumped into balls. Medical supplies for Mrs. Everdeen. Clothing so we don't have to keep in the same old grimy things. Knives. Plenty of knives. Wire. Pots and pans. Looks like we're here to stay.

No soap it seems. I'll survive, though.

I'm with Katniss and Peeta when it happens. They leap up, excited and relieved that everyone is back. Peeta hugs his brothers with such a force I can feel it just by watching them. Katniss just smiles at the sight.

Gale makes his way from the crowd over to Katniss, pulling her aside for a moment. I know I shouldn't listen but I'm curious. Growing up surrounded by secrets has given me an overwhelming sense of being nosy.

"We can't stay here," he tells her gruffly. There's a certain intensity to his voice that sends shivers down my spine. "It's not safe."

"What do you mean it's not safe?" Katniss asks. She sounds upset, and she has every right to be.

She and Peeta spent the entire day organizing people. Setting up different locations for different things. The cabin for medical care. A tent for food storage. Arranging living conditions, changing areas. In only a day the whole place is running functionally.

"I _mean_ those sons-of-bitches out there are a lot smarter than we thought," Gale growls. He glances up toward me and I drop my gaze, trying to make it seem as though I wasn't listening. "It's like they can smell us. I don't know. Won't take them long to find the fence. With enough of them they'll push it over."

Katniss frowns, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. "Well what do you suggest we do, then?" she snaps. It's been a long day for all of us. "We're not in any condition to move, Gale. Not right now."

"We'll be fine for a bit," he mutters back. Clearly the two are stretched to their limits as it is. "I'm just saying that this isn't a permanent thing. We'll have to go somewhere."

I shift in my spot. I think I always knew that we'd have to leave sooner or later. It's too close to the District here, and despite the fact that we're the smallest District of them all there are still a lot of people in it. I just don't know where we'll go. What if we're the only District like this? What if everyone else is running normally and the Capitol has written us off like District 13?

Gale and Katniss talk a bit more about things I can't here, their voices dropping lower than I can register. I shouldn't have been listening anyway. With a sigh I push myself from the log I've been seated on and make my way over to Peeta and Taftan.

"Hey kid," Taftan tugs on my hair. I frown and swat him away, listening to him laugh brightly. I can't deny that I'm happy he's back. Peeta leaves us at once, waving over his shoulder and returning to Katniss.

"Where's Proja?" I ask. I swore I just saw him a second ago.

Taftan throws his arm around me and drags me back toward where our sleeping bags are. "He fell down as we were running," Taftan tells me. Worry instantly spreads through me and I tense, but Taftan squeezes my shoulder. "Relax. He's fine. Mrs. Everdeen is cleaning it and taping him up."

I swallow once. "Was he almost…"

"Bitten? No." Taftan chuckles as we lower ourselves to the sleeping bag. I suppress my shudder before he can realize. I don't want to think about anyone's teeth tearing into anyone. "He just tripped. Scraped up his knee. Idiot." I smile, brushing my bangs from my forehead. At least the Mellark brothers are able to hold onto their teasing nature in a time like this. Maybe there is some hope for the world. "Got you something," he says.

"You did not."

"Did so," he grins. Taftan digs through his backpack and I rock backwards, trying not to seem too excited. I thought the time for surprises and gifts was long gone with, even if had only been days since life was normal. "Here," he extracts something carefully from his bag and hands it over. I almost laugh, and then I do laugh, and then I lunge myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck.

A bar of soap.

"Taftan!" I shake my head. "Other people need this more than me!"

"Yeah, we got like 20 of them," he chuckles. "I thought you'd be tired of feeling grimy though. Yeah?" I nod and feel my cheeks heating up. "Too late to bathe now though so I guess you'll have to do that tomorrow. Just wanted you to have it."

"Well thank you," I smile. The cleaning supplement in my hands feels like the most prized possession I have. Actually, it probably is the most prized possession I have.

We lie back on the sleeping bags and make idle small talk as the camp quiets down. When Proja returns from getting taped up he brings us dinner. We all get a can and a spoon. I try not to cringe as I force the cold chunks of some sort of stew down my throat. I'm just not used to it like this. Proja laughs at my expression.

"Sorry we don't have a hot meal, Princess," he teases. I roll my eyes and eat the rest of the food without showing any hint of repulsion. It's not my fault I was raised with home cooked meals every night. I could most definitely go for one right now.

Once we're done eating and Proja takes our cans to the trash, we stare up at the stars. The silence is still too heavy. "What's it like in there?" I ask them.

Proja shifts uncomfortably. "It's not our home anymore," Taftan finally answers. "It's… overrun." Proja shivers and rolls on his side, facing away from us. "But it's not, because it's everyone we know. Knew. I don't know, Madge. It's… different."

"Of course it's different," Proja snaps. "They're all dead."

"Everyone who had taken hostage in a building," Taftan continues, completely ignoring his brother, "they're… they didn't make it, it looks like. We were trying to find survivors."

"There were a few," Proja says. "Not many."

I don't know why I asked. I didn't want to know. Faces of people from school I knew disfigured like my mother's was are now swimming in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut but it only makes it worse. Discolored skin, yellowing and graying in such a short amount of time. A haze over once crystal bright eyes. Shivers run through my entire body and I suck in a sharp breath. Taftan reaches over and grabs my hand, giving me a quick squeeze.

"We'll be alright," he promises. I don't think I believe him.

* * *

_I had seen it with my mother, the sudden sharp movement that looked oh so wrong. I had seen it with my maid as we slammed the door shut, screaming at her to get back into bed though we knew deep down inside that she couldn't hear us anymore. I had seen it in my most terrifying nightmares._

_I thought if I closed my eyes long enough then it would all go away. The steady thump-drag of my mother on the other side of the door. The ghastly moans that seeped through the walls. But it didn't._

_Not even out in the District could I escape the terror. They were everywhere. Some faster than others. None of it making sense. _

_I remember screaming. It was no longer winter but I felt frozen in every sense of the word. It was not just with my mother. It was with all of them. _

_I couldn't move. I'm not sure I really tried to. I stared at it. I screamed. More of them came. I kept screaming. My father was gone. I didn't know where. Still don't know. I might as well have been gone too._

_Someone knocked them down. I stumbled backwards, scared that they were after me next. Blood gushed from their heads. They were already dead, and yet they still bled. Sticky and black. They didn't cry. Didn't call out for help. Already dead. Already dead. I was next._

_Someone threw me over their shoulder. I didn't know who. Didn't care. I cried and screamed and thrashed. I was next. I was supposed to be first. I was supposed to be gone. _

_"You're fast enough," he growled at me, throwing me down away from the crowds. "Get to the meadow. Don't stop running until you're there. They're not as quick as we are." I blinked, staring back at Gale Hawthorne. He shoved me toward the fence. "Go, Undersee!" So I ran._

* * *

I awake with Taftan's hand on my mouth trying to get me to stop screaming. The deep blue of entirely too early dawn swims around me and I suck in sharp breaths. "Madge," he releases his hand. "Stop screaming, shhh." I clutch the sleeping bag beneath me and squeeze my eyes shut. Dreams. Nightmares. Not real. Real. "Shhh," he whispers again. I sit up and realize that mostly everyone is still sleeping.

"I'm sorry," I choke out. Guilt consumes me in so many different ways. "I'm so sorry, I—"

"Shhh," he shushes me again. Forces me to lie back down. "Go to sleep," he instructs. "It's still dark." My head jerks into a nod and I release my hold on the fabric beneath me. Proja groans from his spot on the other side of Taftan and I feel my heart sink into my chest.

I can't keep doing this. Not only is it problematic, considering _they_ could hear me and come closer, but it's annoying. We need to get our sleep, all of us. Taftan reaches over and fiddles with my hair, though his eyes are still shut and he can't see really see me. I smile a bit, chewing down on my bottom lip and staring up at the sky still dark.

I don't fall back asleep.

* * *

The water is cold as I wade in. There are so many of us at the stream bathing, thanks to the soap deliveries from yesterday, that we're forced to bathe in our underclothes. I don't mind. Being clean is being clean. I actually like the fact that we all look like we're in bathing suits. I was always jealous of District 4 and their ability to swim whenever they'd like. In this moment, I feel like things could almost be normal.

The bar of soap I hold in my hands is a treasure. God only knows how many of them are left in District 12, which is practically our entire world at this point. I cradle it carefully and ease myself further into the water.

Cold, very cold. Freezing even. I guess I should get used to it. No more hot showers for me.

But at least I have soap.

I drop into the stream until my hair is completely wet, and then lather it twice. I can practically feel the grease dissolving. Goodbye filth, hello freshness.

I sigh at the feeling and continue to scrape myself. No more coal under my nails. We're out of the District; I don't ever need to be reminded of mining again. Goodbye dirt that hugged my ankles when I ran to escape, hiding under the folds in my socks and sticking to the sweat. Farewell bitter memories that wake me in the night. I am new. I am revived. I will not let them scare me anymore.

As I go to ease myself from the stream there's a splash next to me. I stand up straight and instantly look for the source of the noise, laughing when I see Posy surface, spewing water from her mouth. "Hi, Madge!"

"Hi Posy," I say with a grin. Moments later Vick and Rory jump into the stream as well, hooting and hollering as it freezes their bones. Posy swims over and attaches herself to my side. Where she learned to swim I'll never know, but she seems sure enough of herself that she could jump in without her brothers. "How are you?" I ask.

"Very cold," she tells me, giggling as I spin her around. I've always wanted a sibling, younger or older. I suppose Taftan and Peeta and Proja sort of count, but Posy's different than the two of them. Posy doesn't care that she only knows my name, she willingly links herself to me as though we've been best friends for our entire life. "Your hair smells good!"

"Here, let's clean yours," I say.

Posy nods and takes the soap, slipping away from me so she can use it without me. I lounge on the streambed and smile. She's very self-sufficient. Must be a Seam thing. Rory and Vick help her with her hair, of course, and then take turns of their own.

"Oh, Madge," Hazelle's voice rings from behind me. I glance up through my damp bangs at the woman who lowers herself next to me. "I'm so sorry about them."

My shoulders lift, "It's alright."

For some reason I feel more at ease with little Posy Hawthorne than I do with most anyone else. Something about Posy's infectious happiness gets to me and I think I need it.

"Everyone else is so busy," Hazelle says as she slips her feet into the water. "Gale's always doing something, the only time he's ever home is at night. And Prim is helping Mrs. Everdeen at the medical tent. Posy can't stop talking about you. She's so thrilled that someone's been paying attention to her."

I laugh lightly, tugging on my hair. "She's sweet." And really, she is. I think everyone needs a bit of Posy in their life, a childlike innocence that doesn't understand how difficult things already are.

Posy splashes in the stream and jumps on Rory. Her older brother falls into the water with a laugh, and then Vick joins in too, adding to the Hawthorne doggie pile in the stream. It's bittersweet, watching these children. They're so young. They're so innocent. So lucky to be alive, to have the family that they have.

"C'mon, Madge," Rory swipes his hand over the surface of the water and splashes me. "Live a little!"

I grin, mimicking Rory's action on the stream and splashing him back. And for now, things are going to be okay.

* * *

I give Posy a piggy back ride to where the Hawthorne's are staying. They're not too far from where Taftan and Proja have their sleeping bags actually, just around the campfire. After everyone is dressed and dry, Posy seats herself on my lap.

"Will you do my hair?" she asks me. Hazelle tells me that Posy will fall in love with anyone who'll give her the time of day. I guess I count. "I like braids!"

"Sure, Posy," I laugh. I use my own ribbon to keep her in the woven pattern. "When I was little I would do the hair on my dolls," I tell her as she sits patiently. I don't think I've ever seen Posy this patient. "I never had someone I could practice on."

"You can practice on me!" Posy giggles. "I love love love when people play with my hair!" I twirl her ebony locks through my fingers and smile. If it's braided correctly it'll be curly when it dries. I think she would like that. As I work Posy tells me a story about Vick, who protests every time the little girl gets a word in. "He hid our storybooks everywhere!"

"I did not, Posy!"

"Did so! I would sleep and the book would be like my pillow and it was hard and hurt."

"That is _not_ true," Vick sighs. He's very small, the youngest of the Hawthorne boys. Maybe about six or seven. Quieter than the rest of his family. I already like him. "I wish we had some storybooks here." He lifts his head up and glances toward me. "Do you know any stories, Madge?"

As I go to open my mouth to respond that yes, I might know a _few_ stories, I hear Gale's voice from behind me. It's not directed towards me, but it feels like it is. "What is _she_ doing here?" he growls, turning toward Hazelle.

"I know a few," I say to Vick, trying to make myself look as though I'm not listening to the side conversation. I'm always listening. This is a skill I've mastered having grown up in my household. "What kind of stories do you like?"

"Gale," Hazelle responds lightly before trying to steer him away. But the oldest Hawthorne boy is determined and keeps his feet firmly planted on the ground.

"I like stories about knights," Vick says brightly. "And warlocks and scientists!"

"She's the whole reason we're stuck like this!" Gale hisses. I do not cringe. I will not cringe. "Her family is the _cause_ of all those things walking around out there!"

Posy turns to face me. "Those are boring," she says. I pray she doesn't hear her brother talking about me. Gale's correct. He's 100 percent correct and if she hears him then she may never speak to me again. "I like princesses and fairies!"

"Do not try to pin this mess on her," Hazelle scolds her son, jabbing her finger into his chest. I have to applaud Hazelle, she's one of the strongest women I know. But she's wrong. The mess should be blamed on me. "She's a very kind girl and the kids like her very much."

Gale throws his hands in the air, "I don't want her anywhere _near_ them!"

I snap back to _my_ conversation. "I know a few stories you might like," I tell them, ruffling Posy's hair a bit like Taftan does to me. She giggles and bounces on my lap, her eyes widening to the size of the full moon. Bright gray. Entirely innocent. "My dad used to tell me stories every night before I went to bed."

"Maybe you could tell us some!" Vick smiles toothily, showing a few gaps where teeth should be. It's an odd time for me to wonder if the residents of the Seam believe in the tooth fairy, or if the tooth fairy will follow us out here. "Gale's really bad at telling stories." The young boy sticks his tongue out at his older brother who stands a few feet away, and then giggles as though he's just said the most hilarious thing. "I want to hear a new story."

"Maybe," I say.

Gale grunts. "Maybe not," he says loud enough for me to hear. He's been listening to two conversations as well. Gale bends down, scooping Posy from my lap and throwing her over his shoulder. She giggles and screams out his name, letting him spin her around once. "May I borrow Madge?" he asks his siblings politely. Such an act. I hope they say no, even though I know that wouldn't stop Gale from getting what he wanted.

"Okay!" Posy laughs. "But you have to bring her back!"

Gale lowers her to her feet next to me and doesn't respond to her statement. I know I won't be coming back to these children. For a moment I think Gale is going to offer a hand to help me up, but I know better than that, too. I leap to stand and he jerks his head to the side, motioning for me to follow. I will not let Gale Hawthorne intimidate me. I will not let him break me anymore than I already am.

"I don't want you around my siblings," he growls. I peer over his shoulder at Vick and Posy who have teamed up to tackle Rory to the ground. His voice doesn't reach above a whisper but every word is clear as day and cold as night. "I don't want you to talk to them. I don't want you to look at them. I don't—"

"I get it," I force out. My throat is thick. "All you had to do was ask, Gale." He keeps his distance from me. "I'm gone. Alright?"

"Madge," Hazelle steps forward, resting her hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off. No contact. No contact. "Gale," she turns to her son. "You're being ridiculous! Madge doesn't have anything to do with—"

"No, Hazelle," I cut her off, slowly inching away. "I understand." I will not cry. "Tell the kids I'll tell them a story some other time." Anything to buy some time.

"Madge," Hazelle tries again, but I'm already gone.

I can hear her grumbling to her son over my shoulder but he waves her off, stooping down to play with his siblings. I swallow the pain because I know this is how it's going to be from now on.

* * *

_A/N: I know there's not much happening now but I need to build up the situation. It's hopeless, really. They go on runs into the District looking for help when they know there isn't going to be any. They haven't any idea what to do. Not only that, but poor Madge blames herself for everything, and the way everyone asks makes it even worse. They act as though she's the main reason for everything, but they just want someone to blame, you know? Sorry about the lack of gadge for now, it won't be for long. _


	3. Story Time

Taftan tells me that the more time I spend doing nothing the worse off I am. I'm not sure if I believe him, considering doing things means being surrounded by people too scared to talk to me, but I try to follow his request of participating anyway.

There are numerous jobs around camp I try.

I clean clothing (other than the Mellark's and mine, of course) along with those who sit by the stream. I don't like doing that, too much. It makes my hands wrinkly. I don't like touching other peoples clothing. They don't like me touching it either.

"If I wear this will I get infected, too?" someone asks. It wasn't meant to be a joke, but people still laugh. I don't clean clothes after that.

I scrub dishes with a group who gets first dibs on soap. Most of the time we eat out of old cans, just filled with Sae's latest soup, and that's what we get to clean. The cans are hard to reach all the way down into and sometimes I get a chunk of vegetable or something slimy under my nails. It's gross, but Taftan was right. It keeps me busy. The same rules apply, though. No one wants to eat out of something Madge Undersee has cleaned.

"I'm not eating out of this," someone protests, holding up their can. "_She_ could've touched it."

Greasy Sae tries to get me to help out with cooking. She tells me she needs someone to watch the pot as she prepares other meals. She's a sweet old woman from the Seam. Bony, tiny. A very good cook. I'm thankful that we have her. But I don't help with cooking. If I do then no one will eat, and we can't have people starving on the fact that I stood near the pot.

"Don't listen to them, Sweetie," Greasy Sae tells me. I don't know her well enough to be okay with being called _sweetie_. "You haven't got the virus and we all know it."

Gale was nearby when she said that. He snorted. I tried not to flinch.

Prim tells me that I can help her and Mrs. Everdeen in the health cabin if I'd like. I don't even bother attempting it once. If anyone were to fall ill with the fever I would be blamed instantly. I deserve the blame anyway, if that is to happen. For all any of us know I really _am_ sick. Maybe I just carry the virus around in my system. Maybe I will pass it to someone. Maybe I'll turn into one of them one of these days.

Proja tries to get me to join a team that goes into the District on runs. Taftan smacks him upside the head for the mere suggestion of it. "I didn't mean anything of it," Proja grumbles, rubbing at his jaw. "Running around the whole day wears me out, that's all."

I think Proja likes it. Running around. It makes him feel important. Taftan only does it because he has to. If he sits around all day then he'll worry about Peeta, who seems to look as though he's falling apart day by day. We haven't even been here two weeks. Why are we already at our breaking points?

I tell myself that I'm not at my breaking point. I tell myself that I'm strong.

I know I'm not.

I like to consider Posy and Vick the glue that's holding me together, honestly. They can be my job. Maybe that's selfish, but it's true. Whenever Gale goes on runs into the District they sneak off and find me, begging me to tell them stories. There isn't much for two small children to do out here in the woods without bothering others, and I really don't mind. I usually let Hazelle sleep during these times, if she can fall asleep. Rory's usually off with Prim so I don't see much of him. But Vick and Posy, they're keeping me sane.

But the kids always leave me because Gale always comes back. And though I wish I could cling to their company, I'm glad their brother always returns.

When the group returns from their usual run through the District for supplies they're two people short. Two people. I didn't know either of the boys personally, but I had seen them around camp. I know their families better than I knew them.

I hear them cry.

I hear them sob.

I watch Taftan sink to his knees in the stream. I watch Proja kick a rock so hard it flies across the entirety of the camp. I watch Katniss pat Peeta on the back carefully. I watch Gale storm away, raking his hands through his hair with a look of stone on his face.

My fingers are numb. It's summer. My fingers aren't supposed to be numb.

I don't know how long it is that the entire camp sits silently. It's as though even the crickets are quiet tonight. I want to cry. I want to sob.

Posy Hawthorne somehow finds her way over to my sleeping bag, sitting down in front of me wordlessly. For a four year old she's pretty smart. She knows that people are upset. She knows she shouldn't ask. She doesn't ask. She lets me play with her hair until she falls asleep.

I scoop the child into my arms and make my way over to the Hawthorne's. Hazelle looks tired. Vick and Rory are already passed out, the younger of the two with his head on his brother's stomach. Posy twitches in my arms and tightens her fingers around me. Hazelle offers a gentle smile before gesturing to herself. I pass Posy over lightly to her mother and wait for her to put her to bed.

Hazelle places Posy next to Vick, and then the tiny girl curls up to her brother as though he's her pillow. She makes her way back over to me. "I'm sorry she's such a hassle," Hazelle sighs.

"Not a hassle at all." Really. She isn't.

"She knew something was wrong when Gale marched off. She said that you looked sad." I can't help but smile at this. Posy probably thinks I _always_ look sad. "She ran over before I could stop her. I was going to come get her but you looked so at peace with her that I—"

"Hazelle," I sigh, shaking my head. "It's okay. Posy's a nice girl." She nods, staring down at her children. "They're all great."

"They keep pestering me to go see you more often," Hazelle tells me. Her lips curl upward but her eyes are filled with an indescribable sadness. "I'm sorry about Gale. I think he carries a lot of this situation on his own shoulders."

I don't think she should be sorry about Gale. Gale's a great person. He just wants to protect his siblings, his family. Gale's a lot stronger than I am. He leads the teams into the District. He brings back just as much meat for us to eat as Katniss does. He's a hard worker. Not only that but we've taken over his sanctum. The woods used to be his place to get away. Where does he get away to now?

"You should get him to take a break," I say to Hazelle. She blinks a few times. "Get him to sleep in or something," I shrug. "Everyone needs a rest sometimes. Even Gale. He's not invincible."

Hazelle grabs my hand. I resist the urge to yank it away. "Neither are you, Madge."

"I'm not trying to be."

She squeezes my fingers once before letting me go. I walk away without saying goodnight. Gale emerges from the woods moments later, casting a glance in my direction with narrowed eyes before dropping down to sleep.

* * *

I resume life as normal, washing clothes silently by the stream. Delly sits by me and we work together in silence. I hate it. Delly used to be so full of life, so energetic and bubbly. When she lost her parents during the escape of the District she's turned quiet. Broken. She still smiles as though there's nothing wrong in the world, but I know Delly well enough to know that it's fake.

"Did your brother go on the run?" I ask. I realize that this isn't the best way to start a conversation, but I can't really think of much else to talk about.

"Yes," Delly says. "I didn't want him to but he said with less people going in…" she trails off and wrings out the shirt in her hands. "He said he had to."

I tip my head into a nod. She doesn't look toward me. I'm thankful that Delly still talks to me. We were always friends back in the District. It means a lot she doesn't cast me away like everyone else does. "Delly," I murmur. "Are you scared of me?"

Her eyes lift to mine, the brown intensely sharper than I remember. "Of course not, Madge. Don't be silly." Delly reaches down and scrubs at the shirt in her hands. Probably her brother's. "I don't think anyone is actually scared of you. Just scared in general." I shrug. I would be scared of me. "You couldn't control what happened and it's ridiculous that everyone blames you."

"I don't know."

"There's nothing to know, Madge," Delly says. "To blame anyone but the Capitol is illogical and dimwitted." Still, I'm not sure I believe her. She sighs, looking up at me. I know this because I can feel her gaze. But I won't turn. "_Did_ you know? What would happen?"

"That when my mother died she'd stand back up?" I snap. Delly drops her gaze. I didn't mean to sound harsh. "No." Not until it was too late, anyway. And when it happened, I didn't believe it. That doesn't mean I couldn't have done something to stop the spread of the virus. That doesn't mean I couldn't have warned others.

I was a coward.

I _am_ a coward.

"Madge!" A little voice is suddenly calling for me. Delly and I both lift our gaze, turning toward the source of the noise. "Madge! Madge!" Posy sprints full speed toward me, a bright smile on her face. I can do nothing but smile back. It's infectious, really. Entirely too happy. Too great.

"Slow down, Posy," I call out, the happiness in my voice radiating. Maybe if Posy likes me then I'm not so awful. Right?

But she doesn't slow down, she keeps running. I think I know something bad is going to happen before it does because I shift on my knees, trying to make it to her before she can make it to me. Posy slips, twisting her ankle outwards and landing with her knee in the gravel by the edge of the stream.

In slow motion I watch her little chin quivers before I'm even on my feet. I lurch toward Posy as quickly as I can and scoop her into my arm. She tries not to cry. She really does. But she's only so tough for a girl from the Seam and her eyes are filled with tears instantly.

"Shhh, Posy," I crush her to my body, forgetting my laundry back at the stream and rushing toward the medical cabin as fast as I can. "Shhh." But it hurts. I know it hurts her. Her leg is covered in blood, her body shakes with sobs. She screams into my chest, weeping and pleading for me to make it stop hurting.

I squeeze the vision of her blood from my mind and pick up my pace. "Get Mrs. Everdeen!" I shout. "Hazelle, too!" And though these people don't like me, and they look down on me, they do as I say. I rush into the cabin and lower Posy to the edge of some sort of stool. Tears continue to drip down her cheeks as she cries out.

"It hurts," she whimpers. "It hurts, it hurts."

"I know, Sweetie," I dig through the supplies trying to find something to clean it up a bit while Mrs. Everdeen is on her way over. "I know."

Before I can even find some gauze or antibiotics Mrs. Everdeen is bursting through the door, Prim hot on her tail. I go to move out of the way but Prim nudges me toward Posy, her eyes widened as if to say _stay_. I lower myself next to the youngest Hawthorne and let her grab my hand. "Squeeze it as tight as you need," I tell her. Posy chokes back her sobs and nods, tightening her hold on my hand as though she's attempting to pull my fingers off. "No more running, right Pose?"

"R-right," she whimpers.

Mrs. Everdeen works methodically, pulling tweezers out of God knows where to pick the gravel from Posy's knee. Posy winces. "Hey, I'm right here," I whisper.

"I k-know," Posy cries. I reach up and wipe under her eyes, trying to offer her a smile. If only my happiness was as infectious as hers. Again she clutches at my hand, squeezing her eyes shut as tight as she possibly can. As Mrs. Everdeen clears the wound of gravel and rocks, Prim cleans it gently. From the smell of the stuff they're using I know that it's strong, and I know it's to prevent any sort of infection. "Am I gonna get sick? Like them?" Posy squeaks.

"No, Honey," I tell her. "I wouldn't let that happen. Ever. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are cleaning you up good as new. Better, even." Posy looks toward the two healers, and though Mrs. Everdeen is busy Prim nods encouragingly. "Just a little bit longer. Can you do that?"

"Mhmm," Posy jerks her head into a nod. I wipe the tears from under her eyes again and marvel at how she doesn't let anymore fall. She's so much younger than me and already so much stronger. And in just a few more moments, Posy is all taped up and cleaned.

"There you go," Mrs. Everdeen says. "Come back tomorrow and we'll re-tape it. Okay, Posy?" The little girl nods at her doctor. "You're going to be okay. Just be careful from now on, alright?"

"Okay," Posy murmurs. Her voice is still very sad, her eyes never really meeting anyone else's.

I stand up and then lift Posy to my side, allowing her to hook her legs around my waist. The sooner I get her to Hazelle the better, her mother needs to know about this immediately. Of course, we open the door and Hazelle is on the other side, her eyes wide and worried.

"I didn't want to come in," she babbles quickly, yanking Posy from me and into her own arms. "I knew they were busy. Oh, Posy, Sweetie."

"I'm okay Momma," Posy says. "Better than new!" Hazelle spins her daughter around, tightly holding her. She looks toward me as Posy giggles and smiles brightly, mouthing out the words _thank you_. I can only lift my shoulders slightly before walking away from the two. I left my clothes by the stream.

* * *

Somehow I end up at the Hawthorne's camp before bed time. I think it's because the people aren't back from the run in the District yet and I need to distract myself somehow. I won't be able to sleep without Taftan or Proja by my side.

I need to keep Posy and Vick distracted too, so I tell them a story. "Thankfully," I say, "the wisest little pig had seen what happened to all the other pigs! He opened his door for his brothers that were running away from the wolf."

"What next?" Vick asks quickly. He leans forward on his elbows. "Does the wolf show up?"

"Shhh," Posy scolds him.

"The wolf shows up!" I say. Both the children gasp and widen their eyes. "He banged on the door as hard as he could! Right away the wolf noticed that this house was a lot more solid than the others." I turn to Posy. "Do you remember what the other two houses were made of?"

"Yes," Posy nods. "One was made of hay and the other was made of sticks!"

"And Vick," I turn to the boy. "Do you remember what the third little pigs house was made of?"

"Bricks!" he shouts. "It was made of bricks! A lot tougher than hay or sticks!"

"That's right," I say with a nod. "But the wolf was determined. He blew once, and he blew again, and he blew for a third time." The two Hawthorne's lean forward again. "But nothing happened."

Posy grins, "Nothing?"

"Nothing," I affirm. I open my mouth to continue with the story when I notice Gale lumbering up. He looks exhausted and he barely glances in my direction. I hesitate to finish the story. "Maybe we can finish tomorrow," I say softly.

Vick grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know what happens!"

"Me too!" Posy adds. She turns to Gale who's seated himself down behind them. Posy leaps toward him and tackles him with a hug. "Now that you're home maybe you can hear the story too!"

Gale crushes his youngest sibling in his arms. "I think it's bed time," Gale tells her gently. He reaches over and messes up Vick's hair. "Tell Madge goodnight."

I go to stand but Posy releases her hold on Gale and jumps toward me. "No! She has to finish the story!" She turns back toward Gale and pouts. "Please, Gale? She saved the day! Let her stay just for a little bit!"

My cheeks heat up as Gale lifts an eyebrow. "What do you mean she saved the day?" he asks his sister. They converse as though I'm not even here. I guess I'm a bit used to that though. "What'd she do?"

"I slipped," Posy tells her brother. She lifts up the hem of her little dress to show him her knee. "See? She carried me all the way to Mrs. Everdeen!" Posy tugs on me again. "Finish the story, Madge! Please!"

I look toward Gale who has some sort of unreadable expression on his face. He's hesitant. He has every reason to be. But eventually I see his head tip into some sort of nod. And then it's my turn to be hesitant. I don't want him to hear me telling these kids this story. But Posy and Vick both sit there, their bottom lips sticking out and their hands clasped together.

"Okay," I sigh. I readjust how I sit. "Where were we?"

"Nothing happened when the wolf blew at the house!" Vick instantly supplies.

I smile. "Right. But the wolf is sneaky, right?" Both children nod. "He wanted to try something else. Another trick than his strong breath!" Again both the kids are leaning forward, desperate to find out what's going to happen next. "The wolf finds a ladder near the edge of the house and uses it to climb up to the roof," I tell them. "He wanted to go to their chimney! Do you know what a chimney is?"

Posy thinks for a moment but then nods. "It's where the fireplace is. Right?"

"Right, Pose," I nod. "And the pigs knew this too! So they ran over to the fireplace and started a fire as quickly as they could. They didn't want the wolf to get to them or he would eat them!"

"What the hell kind of story is this?" Gale grumbles.

I can tell he's irritated about something other than the story, there's that soft quiver in his voice that I can hear. But I don't dare question it. One glance around the camp I see everyone else is mostly quiet. I don't want to know what happened today. Not yet. I swallow the feeling that something's wrong and go back to the story.

Both Posy and Vick shush him instantly.

So I ignore him as well. Only because if I don't I'm scared I'll panic. "The wolf was so hungry that he thrust himself down the chimney as fast as he could. He was so hungry he didn't even care about the risks! But the pigs had already started the fire."

"What happened then?" Vick asks. "Did the fire burn him?"

"It did," I tell them with a nod. "The flames leaped up the fireplace and burned his toes and his tail!" Posy giggles and high fives Vick. They were really rooting for the pigs to win this one. "When the wolf felt the fire he screamed! He heaved himself up and out of the chimney and cried out, 'I'll never go down a chimney again!' When the wolf got out of the chimney he put out the flames on his tail and ran away as fast as he could."

"Phew," Vick wipes at his forehead. "That was close."

"Too close," Posy agrees.

"The three little pigs were so happy that the wolf was gone that they danced around the yard and sang out in celebration," I say with a smile. Posy bounces where she sits and giggles again. "From that day on the smartest little pig helped his brothers to build brick houses. The wolf never came back because he always remembered the pain of his burnt tail."

"Yay!" Both Vick and Posy clap their hands together, relieved at the end of the story. "That was great, Madge!" Vick says brightly. "You should tell us a story every night!"

"Maybe," I say. I reach forward and ruffle his hair much like Gale had earlier. "But it's bed time, guys. You need to get your sleep." They both protest but I force myself to a standing position anyway, trying my hardest not to look toward Gale. I know that he doesn't like me around them. I know that. "Night."

But Posy leaps to her feet too. She rushes toward me and clings to my legs as tight as she can. "Thank you for helping me today," she whispers. Or at least she tries to. The little four year old doesn't quite know how to keep her voice quiet. "You're the best."

"You're welcome, Posy," I say back. She gives me one more quick hug and then rushes back to her sleeping bag, waving over her shoulder with the brightest smile on her face.

I don't look toward Gale but I can feel his eyes on me. I wonder if they're filled with venom or annoyance. Probably both. He likes to alternate between the two. He even specifically told me to stay away from his siblings and I keep going back to them. I can't help it. They make me… happy. And in this world I don't know if there's going to be much else that makes me happy. I can't lose that, even if I told him I'd leave them alone.

When I make my way back over to Taftan and Proja they seem… off. Sad, I think. I sit down without a word, and then Taftan lunges toward me. He wraps me in his arms tightly, squeezes me so hard that I feel as though all the air is being shoved out of my body.

"Taftan?"

"We lost another today," he croaks. His grip on me only tightens. "Loaf," he says. "Loaf Cartwright." I snap away from him and force him to look in my eyes. "Watched him… watched him fall. Tried to go back." I pull my eyes away from his dark blue ones, trying to find Delly in the camp. I have to go to her. I have to go to her right now. "I was too late." It's too dark. I can't see her. I don't know where she is. My body starts shaking in moment and Taftan is squeezing me again. "I tried, Madge," he whimpers. "I did. I tried."

"I know," I force out. Of course Taftan tried. He's so good at heart. He's so good. The quiver of my voice betrays how I feel, "It's not your fault."

Taftan cries that night. He tries not to but I hear him anyway. I reach my hand out and grab his, trying my best to comfort him. Eventually he falls asleep, too exhausted from the day. But I don't.

* * *

_A/N: Poor Delly :c, Madge will talk to her soon. I warned you it wasn't a happy story. More Gale/Madge interaction next chapter, good interaction too that you'll like. Posy will heal just fine, also. More action soon as well. Madge'll be going in the District so you'll see what it's like in there. Please review! x_


	4. Escape Attempts

The nightmares get worse with the loss of Delly's brother. She won't talk to anyone, especially not me. Spends her time by the stream kicking around gravel.

It's been a few weeks since I've even seen one of _them_, but the nightmares are still worse. I see my mother, my father. I see Taftan and Proja, though they're sleeping right next to me. I see Katniss and Peeta. I see little Posy and Vick and Rory and even sometimes Gale.

I see me. As one of them.

I wake up screaming night after night having to shove my fist in my mouth to keep myself quiet.

The camp is told that a horde of _them_ keeps moving closer. Haymitch wants to officially start calling them zombies but we remind him that this isn't some sort of Capitol propaganda. This is how it actually is, now. And they're coming closer. And we're dwindling on our supplies.

Taftan won't talk about it what it's like over there, he tells me to stop asking. I watch the bags grow under his eyes much like mine do. These are the things that I think about at night. I grip my sleeping bag and will the images out of my mind. They don't. They're never gone.

And today is no different from the past few weeks. Spent mostly lonely. Delly works in silence next to me. Won't talk, but at least it's sort of progress. Katniss and Peeta are always exhausted, I barely have time to have a conversation with them. I do still get to see Posy and Vick though, under the very watchful eye of their older brother.

Tonight is just like every other night. Taftan and Proja talk back and forth about things that don't matter until their voices lull me to sleep. Something about how Proja could really go for a glass of milk right now. It makes me smile. I find it so hard to smile these days.

But the dreams come, just as they always do.

* * *

_My mother's room was quiet. In fact, the entire house had been quiet. The fever ate her up. Burned her out. Took her from me before I had the chance to say goodbye. Father wouldn't even let me in her room. She lay in her bed. The mortician hadn't been here yet because apparently a lot of people in the Seam were dying too. Burned out as well. I tried not to listen to the rumors. _

_They weren't rumors. I knew that. I pretended they were._

_She always looked peaceful when she was sleeping. Especially now. I supposed I knew she wasn't sleeping, but I pretended she was. Her eyes were lightly closed. There was no morphling bottle attached to her arm. I wondered if she was at peace. I wondered if she has still hurting. I hoped not._

_My mother twitched where she lay. I thought I imagined it. I was in mourning. I spent the entire day locked in my room with a box of tissues, though no tears ever actually fell. I was numb. I was sure to be hallucinating. _

_But it happened again. Hope filled every pore of my body almost instantly. "Mom?" I called out. In moments I was on my feet making my way over to her. "Mom? It's me. It's Madge."_

_I grabbed her hand tightly and waited for her to sit up. She wasn't dead? "Dad!" I screamed toward the hall. "Daddy! Come quick!" I didn't wait for him to respond, only turned back to my mother. "Oh, Mommy." I wanted to throw my arms around her and squeeze as tight as I could. I knew not to though. It would hurt her. _

_Instantly I remembered that she was probably in pain. I rushed to the closet as fast as I could and started rifling through her morphling bottles. _

_"Madge? Pumpkin, what's wrong?" my father's voice echoes from the hallway. "Where are you?"_

_"Mom's room!" I cried back. "She's awake!" _

_"Awake? Madge…" _

_But I tuned him out. I was good at that. Growing up with people always shouting their distasteful opinions. Lectures. I could tune anything out. I rifled through the closet as quickly as I could but it looked as though my father had moved her IVs. _

_"Just a minute, Mommy," I said over my shoulder. "I'll make it stop in a second, I promise." Her voice was gravely. Sounded more like a moan. "I know," I told her. She'd was probably having another migraine. "One second. I promise." _

_Again her cry echoed throughout the room. It was louder. I just thought that she was in more pain. "Madge," my father cried out. "Madge! Get out of there!" _

_"Daddy," I huffed, "where are the IVs? Mother needs one, she—" I paused as the atmosphere shifted. "Mom?" I spun around as quickly as I could to face the woman who had raised me. The woman who gave me life. She was lumbering toward me. "...Mom?"_

_I should've known something was wrong right away. My mother never got out of bed unless it was a good day, and today was most certainly not a good day. Her eyes were widened. The blue I once thought of as home was glazed over. It was as though Peeta had painted a clear sky and then dunked the paintbrushes into water. Her mouth was slightly open. Almost… unhinged. The stench of death was thick in the air. _

_"Mom," I said again. My voice quivered. "Mom, lay back down."_

_But she didn't listen. I knew she wasn't listening. Her footsteps were heavy. Uncoordinated. Off balanced. A child learning to walk all over again. She limped as though there was no feeling in her legs._

_I wanted to believe that she knew who I was but I could tell. There was no recognition in her eyes. I wasn't her baby girl anyone. _

_I tried one last time. "Mommy, _please_."_

_But she lunged. Her entire force, though once weak and tiny, was a lot stronger than mine. I was on the floor in moments, bottles of morphling crashing around us. Her neck was bruised. Green and purple blotches covered her skin in the most hideous matter. It looked as though if I touched it, it would fall off. _

_Out of fear I kicked at her, hoping if I got her in the right spot she would drop her hold on me. "Daddy!" I cried out. My mother's nails dug into my skin as her teeth inched closer. Growls so low they reminded me of a muttation from an arena. I kicked again. "Daddy, help!" No matter where I hit she didn't flinch. She didn't even flinch. _

_The door banged open with a thud, the sound only temporarily distracting the woman on top of me. The woman. The creature. She wasn't my mother. I didn't know that at the time. In moments she was off of me because my father had attacked. Brute force. Pushed her to the ground. _

_"Get out," he snarled. I knew he wasn't angry, just scared. "Get out!" _

_I ran as fast as I could from the room, hot tears leaking from my eyes. I wasn't fast enough. I saw him shove the letter opener through her eye._

* * *

"For the love of God," Taftan is shaking me. "Madge, wake up!" Out of reflex I shove him away, listening to him grunt as my palm makes contact with his cheek. He throws his hands up in the air, clearly fed up with putting up with this night after night. "Fine," he growls, "hit me."

Vivid. The dream was too vivid. The dream was too accurate. The dream was not a dream. Just a nightmarish memory.

Tears pour from my eyes as I try to stifle my sobs. "Taftan, I didn't mean—"

"Shut her _up_," someone from the camp mutters. Another says, "Not again!" Guilt is spiraling through my system. "Every _night_!"

"Just go back to bed," Taftan grunts. He drops his head back on his pillow and rolls to face the other direction. Proja rolls away too, and though he hasn't said anything, I know that I've woken him up as well. I wonder who else I've deprived of their sleep.

I lay down for a bit, staring up at the sky. My entire body is shaking no matter how long I wait. I know I have no reason to scream at night. No reason to toss and turn. I've had plenty of time to get the images from my mind. I've had a century to adjust to things. To stamp out the memories as though they're dying fires. The boys who go on runs, they don't scream like I do and they deal with _them_ nearly every day. They see the things I hope I never do again.

It's still dark out. The stars are still evident if I focus on them but I can't. My eyes dart around frantically, unable to settle on anything. I clutch the sleeping bag beneath me and pray to fall back asleep, but I don't. And from the rustle of the people near me I know they don't either.

Quickly I shove myself into a sitting position and reach for my shoes next to my sleeping bag. Sandals. It makes me laugh that even in this new life we live I've yet to get a pair of sneakers. It's not as though I'm doing much running, though.

Taftan must already be asleep again because I know he wouldn't let me go anywhere by myself. But I need a walk, I need some fresh air.

I tip toe through the camp careful not to disturb anyone. I've done enough of that for today. I've done enough of that for the rest of our time here. I should never have to do it again. And I won't, I've decided.

It takes me a bit, considering I have to weave in and out of the crowds of people sleeping, but I eventually get to the District fence. It's a bit away from our camp but easy enough to find, considering I know the general location.

It's strange how we were once all locked in the District, but now we're all locked out. The electricity isn't on but I listen for the hum anyway. Katniss taught me that when we would sneak away to the woods after she got back from the Games, but before the Quell. My heart shakes in my chest. In a way I'm relieved all of this has happened. With the end of the world meant my friends weren't thrown back into the arena to their death. At least we're all together. Right?

Or at least we were. It won't be much longer now.

At the fence I claw at the links, almost wishing that it_ was_ turned on. It would be a lot quicker, probably a lot less painless than being mauled to death. Because that's how I've decided to go. From the spot that I stand I can see some buildings in the Seam. I don't see any of _them_ but it won't take long to spot one. There're hundreds of them, according to Proja. Too many to count. I'll just head towards the Square.

If I stay here at the camp I continue to be a burden. I risk us more and more every day with these stupid night terrors. I waste supplies. I'm going to join my mother. Join my father. Just like I should've when it first happened.

I ran from my family. I'm such a _coward_ because _I ran!_ I should've stayed! Fought! Looked for them!

Before I know it I'm crouching at the bottom of the fence, desperately trying to look for a fault that I can clamber through. Tears drip down my cheeks and I hate myself all over again. I can cry for myself, for my impending death and my own fears, but I can't cry for my family? I haven't shed one damn tear for my mother, just for the terror that filled me for when she attacked! I haven't cried over my father, for his disappearance and probable death! I cry over _myself! _Selfish, little girl!

I'm done forcing smiles and pretending that everything is okay. Nothing is okay! _Nothing_!

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

I freeze. My hands still grip the fence, circling the links as though if I let go I'll wake up from a dream. My head slowly turns toward the voice. He stands poised. His bow is in his hands but it's not aimed at me. He leans away.

I blink, still stunned by the vision of Gale Hawthorne before me. Mostly because this isn't a vision, he's actually here in front of me. He hasn't spoken to me since the death of Delly's brother about a week ago. I'll catch his eyes from across the camp sometimes but they're usually filled with ice and venom. My cheeks are still wet from my tears, I can only imagine the way he sees me right now. Shaking. Dirty. Pathetic.

"I asked where the hell you think you're going," Gale repeats, his voice more stern than last time.

"I…" looking down at the fence I'm still gripping, my words are gone. "I was going to…"

"Yeah, _no_," he shakes his head, marching toward me. "I don't think so." Gale drops his bow on the ground a few feet from me so both of his hands are free and then reaches where I am in a matter of seconds. His fingers pry mine from the fence and then he tugs me backwards. "Get back to camp."

I wrestle against him, trying to tear myself from his hold, but Gale's much stronger than me. He always has been. "Just… let me—go!"

"Dammit, Undersee," he collapses to the ground and pulls me backwards with him, his arms tightly wrapping around mine so I can't push him away anymore. "Stop," he murmurs. His hands reach up and wipe under my eyes, tears still streaming down. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want _anyone_ to touch me! "Stop crying," he whispers. "Let's go back to camp."

"Let me go," I plead. I was so close to being home. _So close_.

"We're not losing any more people," he nearly growls. "Even you."

"I wouldn't be a loss," I whimper. I wouldn't. It would be a gain. Everyone would be glad to have me gone. Sleeping through the night. One less mouth to feed. They all already stare at me and whisper to their friends. It came from my house. The virus came from my mother. I'm the reason we're all here. "Let me go," I beg again.

"Only if you go back to camp."

His chin lowers to my shoulder and I find myself freezing up. Sobs die in my throat though it's still entirely too difficult to swallow. My body still shakes. I don't understand. I don't understand why he's acting this way.

"Why are you doing this?" I choke out. He hates me. He won't talk to me, won't come within two feet of me. And now he's here? Holding me? Telling me to join the others? "Why not just let me go die?"

"No more death," he murmurs. Gale's voice is low in my ear, the sound of it rendering me unable to move. "I'm tired of death." My hands search for his and I attempt to pry his grip from me. "Go back to camp and I'll let go," he tells me.

"Just let go _now_."

"No."

We're at a standstill. A stalemate. I jerk my body so his chin is no longer on my shoulder, stubbornly crossing my arms over my chest. My chin quivers as I try to calm myself down. I can try again tomorrow. Or tonight, after everyone has fallen asleep. I'll sneak out then. Let them take me. Let them tear me limb from limb like I deserve. My fault. Our fault.

"I'll go back to camp," I grumble. At least for now.

His grip slackens. "And you'll stay there under the watchful eyes of your admiring Mellark brothers, is that clear?" My head bobs uncomfortably. Taftan will be angry if Gale talks to him. Proja probably will only pretend to listen. "And you won't try this bullshit plan again." That isn't a question. It's an order. I can't bring myself to nod.

Instead I change the subject. "Sorry for waking you," I mutter.

"You didn't. I was up." His grip is tighter again. It isn't a caring embrace, it's one of force to keep me where I am. "You're not the only one that has trouble sleeping. Some of us just aren't as _loud_." I wince. Again Gale eases. "Still heard you, though."

I wiggle, trying to free myself from his hold. Too strong. Gale's much too strong. No matter how the world would've ended, whether it be firebombs and smoke or this, Gale has that ability to always be strong. He's a survivor. Always has been a survivor. Physically. Mentally. He's tough enough for this world. I'm not.

"You blame me for this," I snarl at him, frustrated that I can't release myself from him. "Why not let me die? Don't I deserve it?"

"You don't want to die," he snaps. "You think you do, but you don't." The sun is turning the sky a brighter blue. He doesn't know what I want. "I don't blame you." That's a lie. Everyone blames me. I blame me. "Maybe I did, but I don't anymore." Let me go. _Please_ let me go. "I just wanted to blame _someone_. You were the easiest target." My heart is in my throat or my stomach. I can't tell. Let me go. "Back to camp?" Gale asks again.

"No."

I won't join them. I won't sit around waiting to die. I want to do it on my own terms. I don't want to be a bother anymore.

"Back to camp," he decides. Gale pushes me forcefully to my feet but grips my forearm tightly, not letting me run away. "It's not your fault," he tells me. "I know that. So does everyone at camp. They just won't admit it." He drags me when I don't willingly walk. Forcefully. I'll bruise, I can already feel it. Don't touch me. "For fuck's sake, Undersee," he grunts. "Will you cooperate?"

"Take me back to the fence," I plead once the camp is back into view. My voice verges on desperate. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to be here. "Let me join them. _Gale_—"

He stops me by a tree, forcefully dropping his hands on my shoulders. "Enough," he growls. We're far enough away from camp that he doesn't have to whisper, but he does anyway. "You don't want to die; you're just scared to live. You're scared of what's going on and you're scared of what's going to happen. Don't be a coward."

But I am. I am a coward. I want to be a coward.

"Madge," he says. Gale's voice is so thick it scares me. "We're _safe_ here," he stresses.

"Don't kid yourself." I hear them talk. _They_ get closer every day. The boys that go on runs are practically leading _them_ to us. "You have _no_ right to choose if I live or die. That's up to _me_, Gale Hawthorne!" I jab my finger into his chest. "I'm _sick_ of this! This dance that I do with _everyone_!" Gale blinks, dropping his eyes down to where we touch. "No one here cares about me," I tell him. "So next time I try to leave, _let me_."

I drop my hand and go to march away back to the sleeping bag before Taftan wakes up, but Gale's too quick. Damn his damn hunter senses. He wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs me back toward him. "What about the Mellark brothers, hm?" Now it's my turn to blink. Process what he's saying. "What do you think they'd do if they woke up and you were gone?"

"They'd understand that—"

"Bullshit," Gale growls. "They'd demand to send a damn search party into the District looking for your pretty little ass." The stiff position I hold myself in slackens. "Or Katniss and Prim? Besides that damn baker and me you're the only good friend Katniss has got. Sure she's been busy but that doesn't mean she doesn't like that you're around." I try to find something to say but I can't. Again the words have dissolved in my throat. Gale hesitates, dropping his hold on me and tugging his hands through his hair. "Posy?" he asks. "Vick? The hell'd you think they'd do if you were gone all of a sudden?"

"I…"

"The people here are shit, Undersee, I get it. You think I don't spend half my time contemplating how to make my death look like a fucking accident? This world, this _life_ is shit! But that's no reason to just call it quits and walk out. You made it this far."

I swallow down everything I want to say and jerk my head into a nod. "Okay."

Gale scratches at the scruff on his jaw and nods as well. "Good."

He lets me walk back to my sleeping bag alone, though his eyes follow me the entire time. As I settle back down, clutching the sleeping bag tightly, I can only think one thing. I think Gale Hawthorne and I just formed a sort of truce. I'm just not sure why.

* * *

_A/N: Good interaction yay. Camp meeting next chapter. I hope you understand how Madge feels. Desperate. A waste of space. And then there's Gale who's just tired and stressed and sees Madge trying to get away and instantly understands what's happening. Sick of losing people. You know? _


	5. Meetings

I'm awoken to a gentle shake of my shoulder. Nothing harsh or cruel. Nothing in a panic. Gentle. My eyes ease open and I blink a few times, trying to adjust myself to the light around me. It's morning. Not early dawn, but light blue. Perhaps almost ten or eleven.

"Madge," Taftan's voice is careful. "Are you okay?"

I blink some more and focus on the blonde beside me. His face is illuminated by the sunshine that lights up camp, his golden skin reflecting almost beautifully.

"I'm fine," I tell him with a yawn. Taftan reaches down and grabs my hand. "Why? What's wrong? What happened?"

Suddenly panic is shooting through my veins and I'm awake in an instant. Taftan registers the look on my face. "Nothing," he says quickly. "You… you were sleeping, that's all." I turn to the Mellark with one eyebrow raised. What's so bad with sleeping? "You haven't slept like that since… since ever," Taftan murmurs guilty. His cheeks are almost pink. "I was worried. You feeling alright?"

My head bobs into a yes as he squeezes my hand once before releasing it. I remember climbing back into my sleeping bag after my confrontation with Gale but I had no intentions of going back to sleep. My head feels heavy and the weight of the situation presses down on my shoulders.

"I'm fine," I repeat. Still, Taftan reaches forward and presses the back of his hand to my forehead. I smirk and swat him away. "Stop that." His lips lift into a gentle smile as he pulls his hand away. He's sitting awfully close to me on my own sleeping bag. "Just tired, I guess." Taftan nods too, slowly and sadly. He drags his hand through his hair, turning to glance out at camp, and then returning to look at me. Something's wrong. Maybe not at camp, but with him. I can feel it. "Taftan,"

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says again. "I—never mind." Taftan glances over his shoulder before returning his gaze to me. "Madge, I'm sorry." I open my mouth to question him again but Taftan silences me instantly. "I yelled at you last night," he blurts out. He even hangs his head in shame. "I _know_ that it's not your fault you can't sleep," he says quietly. "I _know_ that. I had no right to get angry, no reason to get so _mad_—"

"Taftan," I cut him off. "It's okay. I get it."

"No, you don't get it," he says as he shakes his head. "You think everyone blames you, you always think everything's your fault." I bite down on my cheek to keep myself from getting upset. The taste of old copper dances over my tongue. "But it's not. And I _never_ wanted you to feel like it was. _Ever_. I had wanted to be the one person that never yelled at you." Before he can say anything else I throw my arms around his neck, tugging him into a hug. Taftan wraps himself around my waist and drops his head onto my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice muffled from my hair. "Dammit, Madge."

And in a way, I feel guilty too. I had planned to leave. Take off without a word. He would've thought it was his fault that I left. Taftan doesn't deserve any of the blame whatsoever. I squeeze him tighter, feeling his breath against my neck. I wanted to leave this. Without a goodbye. Without any warning.

"It's okay," I choke out.

Again he crushes me against him before easing his grip slightly. "It's not, but I'll make it up to you."

I laugh despite the situation, playfully pushing at his chest. "You don't have to make anything up to me, Taftan." But still, he shakes his head and shrugs. For some reason I have the feeling I'm going to be smothered in admiration for the next few days. With a roll of my eyes I glance toward camp. "Hey, what's going on over there?" Most of the adults have gathered toward the old cabin where Mrs. Everdeen fixes up the injured.

"What, that?" Taftan points toward the crowd. "Some sort of meeting. Proja went."

"Meeting?" I shift on my knees and crane my neck. "About what?"

Taftan shrugs for the thousandth time. "Who knows? I try to avoid them." Curiosity practically overwhelms me and I leap to my toes instantly. "Madge," Taftan follows quickly. "It's just boring stuff. We don't need to worry about it."

"But I want to know," I tell him.

Information is my weakness. Growing up with closed doors and secrets leaves me craving everything and anything I can. Even if I don't care for it.

Taftan is quick, matching my pace instantly to keep up with me. The crowd is filled with mostly adults, some teens. Proja sits near Peeta with a bored expression on his face. People shout things at random, causing an air of unsettlement. Taftan and I find our place with his brothers.

"What do we do when it rains?" someone growls. "We've been lucky but it won't last forever!"

"How about when winter comes?" another asks. "It's already getting colder!"

"Is the Capitol going to get us?"

"Is anyone going to help us?"

"Enough!" Haymitch finally booms. Everyone falls silent immediately. My eyes scan the crowd. Katniss sits near the front with Prim. Gale and Rory. Delly with the family she's been staying with. "I know you all have a lot of questions but shouting them all at once is hurting my head. I haven't had a drink in weeks. Be considerate."

Katniss snorts where she sits, and then Peeta shoots her a look that causes her to smile. It makes me smile too. How can it not?

"Alright, listen," Haymitch starts again. "Are we going to have to return to school and raise our hands, or can we do this calmly?"

"Who put you in charge?" someone instantly yells from the back.

"Honey, please," Haymitch lifts his hands, "you want to run the camp be my damn guest."

Peeta leaps to his feet and makes his way next to Haymitch. "We're always open for suggestions," Peeta tells the crowd. "We, Katniss and Haymitch and I, didn't ask for this role but we're trying our best to make the decisions that will benefit us as a whole." Peeta glances toward the people who hang on his every word, just as they always have. "We're the only people here that know how to survive in a world that doesn't want us to."

"I beg to differ," someone from the Seam shouts.

"Alright, alright," Haymitch shoots the man a nasty look. "We're all on the same boat now so enough of that segregated bullshit. It sucked in the District and it sucks out here, we don't need to make it worse." Haymitch looks down toward Peeta who nods his head encouragingly. "Where do we start?"

"Food," Peeta tells him.

"Right." Haymitch turns back to us. For a moment I wonder why Peeta is letting Haymitch speak considering Peeta's always been good at addressing crowds, but then I figure it out. Things aren't going to look as _professional_ or _orderly_ coming from a teenager. Though Haymitch is (or well, was) a drunk, he's a survivor. "We have options."

The murmurs start up again. "…sick of the same old thing night after night." "What happens when we run out of supplies in the District?" "…people going crazy over a can of soup."

"We could start farming," Haymitch says. I snort before I can help it and Taftan chuckles, nudging me with his arm. Again the crowd is murmurs. "Will you all shut _up_ for the love of God!"

Peeta frowns and steps forward. "Sure, none of us are farmers," Peeta says. "But we could learn. There are a few of us here who had plants that they tended to. We'd have people go into the District and find some seeds. Might take a bit but it'd be worth it in the end."

"No it wouldn't," Gale's voice suddenly booms. Everyone turns to look at him. He sits in his spot next to Rory and stares up at the blonde. "Farming isn't an option. Fishing. Hunting. Not for much longer."

Haymitch scowls and mutters something about how we hadn't even _reached_ that part of the discussion yet. "Why not?" Peeta asks.

"Because those freaks are getting closer every day," Gale says. He glances toward Taftan and Proja who sit next to me. Just through the brief exchange I can sense the tension. I wonder if Gale and Proja were in classes together, they're both 19. Maybe they didn't get along very well. "Back me up here," he says. "We won't last if they find the fence."

I feel Taftan shift next to me before he jerks his head into a nod. "Gale's right," Taftan calls out. It makes me wonder how _they_ know each other. Taftan's older than Gale by a year. They probably never spoke in school. Or did they? "We've been trying to get back here through different routes but it isn't working. Sometimes we'll find one or two of them at the fence. If a few of the freaks can figure it out they all can. They're smarter than we think."

Haymitch clenches his jaw, Peeta looks a bit paler than before. Katniss wraps her arm around Prim and asks, "Well what do you want us to do, then? Run?" Katniss shakes her head. "Where would we go? We can't run from the unknown. We don't know anything about those things in there."

"Then that's all the more reason to get away from them," Gale grunts, narrowing his eyes at Katniss. "If they're from the Capitol they can't be good, can they? What if they mutate? Super strength, super speed? We'd be goners by that point." I shudder without meaning to, dropping my gaze to the ground and picking at the grass. "We need to know what we're up against!"

"And how do you propose we do that?" Haymitch mutters. "Capture and experiment?"

"I'm just saying we need to know _something_," Gale hisses at the man. "And then we need to go."

"Go _where_?" Katniss asks again. "We don't know anything! We'd just be making guesses! For all we know we're the only District like this!"

"We could check," I murmur. It isn't meant to be loud and I hadn't meant to say it in the first place, but due to the silence and tension nearly everyone around me hears me say it.

Haymitch lifts his eyebrows and asks, "What's that, Princess?" My gaze is lifted to the Victor immediately and he waits for me to continue, but all the words are stuck in my throat. "You said something. What was it?"

"You said we could check," Taftan whispers. "What do you mean?" He's not asking me to tell the crowd. He's asking me to tell _him_. And I want to. But my throat is still clogged and suddenly I can't breathe. My head jerks and I drop my gaze again, wishing I had kept my mouth shut. "Madge, if you know something…"

"Of course she knows something," someone grumbles, "came from her damn house in the first place."

Darkness shoots though my veins as though I've injected morphling into my bloodstream. I hang my head down and clamp my lips shut, everything dying in my throat. My words will go unspoken.

But in seconds the boy next to me leaps to his feet. "Oh, for the love of God," Taftan shouts. "Enough! Madge does her part here just like all of you! It's not her damn fault she lived where she did and it's not her fault that her family was the first to get sick. Those Capitol scum were always there! How the hell else were they expected to spread the damn disease?" The entire audience is quiet and my heart is shaking inside my chest. "Next time I hear _anyone _say anything about Madge I will personally drag you to the fence and shove you in with those bastards because this has gone too far. Is that clear?"

The lack of response must be what Taftan wanted because he drops back down next to me. If I could find the words to thank him I would but for now my hands are shaky and I can't breathe properly.

"I second that," Haymitch grumbles. "The girl's just as scared as all of us. We've gotta pull together, not apart. Grow up, already."

Peeta nods as well, but I know he's too sincere to back the entire _dragging to the fence_ thing. Taftan turns back to me. "Madge," he says carefully. "Do you know something?" I open my mouth to speak but I can't. I feel their gazes. Their judgmental stares. "It's okay," Taftan whispers. "Just talk to me."

I lick my lips and suddenly find myself thirsty. "My father was in contact with the Capitol," I choke out. Taftan nods encouragingly and glances over my shoulder at someone, his eyes wide. "I don't know for how long or about what, but I knew they were sending files back and forth."

"Already checked the mayor's home office," Gale's voice rings. "Literally nothing. Couldn't get into the Justice Hall."

"There's a key," I continue weakly. "My dad never brought important things home, he knew I would snoop." Taftan smiles and places his hand on my shoulder. "It could open the Justice Hall and my father's office. If… if there's anything to find it'll be in there."

Everyone is quiet for a moment and I'm terrified I've said something wrong again. Maybe I should've told someone all of this earlier, but I'm not even entirely sure if there's anything even _in_ there. Especially if everything was on a computer, then it would be gone anyway.

Gale's voice is hesitant, "Do you know where the key is?"

I don't answer.

"Madge," Taftan cups my cheeks. "Do you know where the key is?" he asks gently.

"Yes," I breathe. "I do."

* * *

Taftan practically scooped me into his arms and dragged me away from the crowd, considering the entirety of them bust into a fit of yelling the second I said what I had. Haymitch calmed them all down as I was deposited in the cabin, resting on the floor with my head in my hands. Taftan and Proja. Peeta and Katniss. Gale. They all stormed in and shut the door.

I keep myself busy glancing around the cabin that's only used for emergencies. Medicines and unmarked bottles. Gauze. I wonder where they found it all.

"Maybe you could explain where it is," Katniss suggests quietly. "Write it down. Draw a map."

"That won't work," Gale grunts at his friend. They speak around me as I try to breathe. "We've had people in the house before, they didn't find anything of use." I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. They were in my house. The runners raided my house looking for something when they could've just asked. "I want to know why you didn't say anything before now," Gale nearly growls.

"Don't use that tone with her," Taftan snaps.

"I didn't k-know," I choke out. My throat is tight and my eyes are wet. "There could be nothing t-there. It's just a guess. A hope."

Taftan lowers himself next to me and rubs his and on my back. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to go back there."

Gale growls again but it's something inaudible. I suck in a sharp breath. I should've said something before or not at all. But I'd like to help. Really, I would. I feel useless half the time and if I could do something to show everyone that I'm on their side maybe they'll stop blaming me. And then maybe I'll stop blaming myself.

"I have to," I finally croak. Taftan flinches but doesn't move away. "I have to go into the District."

Gale pauses in his step and both Proja and Peeta glance down at me. I can feel it. Their blue eyes filled with sadness and shock all at once.

"Like hell," Taftan roars. "It's too dangerous!"

"How else will they find the key?" I ask, lifting my head to face him. "If there's something in the Justice Hall that could help us figure out those… those _things_, then I have to help!"

"_No_," Taftan says.

Gale leans against the door and glances down at me. "Madge," Katniss stares at me with an unreadable look. "You don't have to," she whispers.

"And you're not _going_ to," Taftan tells me, his face red and angry.

"I have to," I repeat weakly. "Maybe… maybe there's a cure. Or a better way to… to ward them off."

Peeta sighs where he stands and drags his hand through his hair. "It's your choice, Madge," he says gently. Taftan grumbles from his spot beside me and I know that his baby brother has upset him, but Peeta's right. It's up to me.

"Gale can go in with you," Katniss supplies. "He'll take a bow and arrow. Make sure nothing comes close." She glances toward her friend with narrowed eyes. "Right, Gale?" The hunter jerks his head into a nod without even looking at her. His eyes are glued on me.

"As if," Proja mutters.

"If Madge is going into the District then so am I," Taftan says instantly.

"Not necessary," Gale booms.

"_Then she's not going_," Taftan hisses at him.

"If Taftan's going I am too," Proja pipes up, his eyes daggers at Gale.

"If it's just the two of us it'll go faster," Gale tells him, his eyes finally dragging off of me and onto them. "If you come too then Madge'll spend her time worrying rather than getting the job done. We all know she'll be safe with me." For a moment I'm frustrated no one's asking my opinion on the entire thing, but then I figure I might as well let them all talk it out. "I won't let anything happen to her."

"Just yesterday you blamed her for this whole mess," Proja roars. "You're bat shit crazy if you think we're letting you take her in there by yourself. You'll come back alone after some _accident_."

Gale rears forward but Katniss pulls him back, shooting an angry look over her shoulder at the Mellark who just spoke. "Enough, Proja," Katniss barks.

"I trust Gale," I say faintly.

Taftan shifts from next to me and the silence in the air is thick. I feel Gale's eyes return to me but I can't bring myself to look up at him.

"You don't have to do this," Taftan whispers to me. His voice is dreadful. "You _don't_."

"Yes I do," I respond. I'm surprised at how sturdy my voice is. My entire being is shaking. My brain inside my head. My veins inside my wrists. My heart inside my chest. I'm surprised I've yet to keel over or throw up. "I owe it to all of you."

Gale marches out of the cabin almost instantly, letting the door slam shut behind him. Proja and Katniss both follow quickly, shutting the door a bit gentler than Gale had.

"I guess there's a lot to work out," Peeta says quietly. Instead of looking at me he fiddles with a bottle of some antiseptic that Mrs. Everdeen had left out. "Especially if you guys want to go tomorrow."

* * *

_A/N: Oooh into the District! Hoping the reasoning behind it makes sense. Thanks to all of those who read and review this story! I love to write it and I hope you love to read it. _


	6. District 12

"The shoes are Rory's," Gale says as I tie them. I haven't a pair of sneakers. They had to find some for me. I can't say I'm thrilled that Gale's 12 year old brother and I wear the same sized shoe. "So no pressure, but you'll need to bring them back."

I frown and focus on tying the knot so my shoes stay on. I have to make sure they won't come undone. I won't have time to stop and tie my shoes. I don't even want to think about _tripping_ at this point.

"Madge," Gale says sternly. He's spent most of the morning talking at me. Not to me, just _at _me. I've tuned out. I don't need his warnings. But his voice is sincere this time so I glance up. "Don't think for one second that I'm going to take my eyes off of you." I blink, confused. "Don't try running off," he adds.

Oh. Right. He did see me trying to escape this place back into the District.

"I won't," I tell him.

"Damn right. I won't _let_ you." Slowly, I nod. I move onto the other shoe and take a very long time making sure everything is right. "Madge," Gale says again. I don't like it when he uses my name. It makes me feel as though he's trying to talk to a child. I'm not a child. I don't lift my gaze this time. "We're going to see them," he murmurs. "Those freaks. And not one or two, but dozens. Maybe hundreds."

I shudder before I can help myself and pause, leaving my hands frozen on my half-tied sneaker. "I know," I croak.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"What's it matter to you?"

Gale hesitates. "Can't have you freezing up," he finally answers. My shoulders pull into a shrug as I finish with the shoe. "The hell are you doing?" he asks. I jerk my head up to answer that I'm _tying_ my _shoes_ when I realize that he isn't talking to me.

Taftan and Proja saunter up to the two of us, donned in running gear and ready to go. "I told you that we were coming," Taftan answers.

"I told you _no_," Gale nearly snaps.

"Your word isn't law," Proja answers. The entire situation is filled with too much testosterone for me. "Madge doesn't mind. Right, Madge?"

I bite my tongue. I'd honestly prefer if they stayed _here_. That way I'll know they're safe no matter what. That way I only have to worry about myself. But Taftan's face is so full of optimism that I can't tell them this. They'll think I'm choosing Gale over them when really I'm not.

"Of course not," I finally answer. I turn to Gale. "It's their choice, don't you think?"

Taftan holds out his hand and helps me up into a standing position. "Exactly. I knew there was a reason we liked you," Taftan says as he ruffles my hair. I frown and shove him away, catching Gale as he rolls his eyes.

"That reminds me," Gale digs into his back pocket and pulls out… a ribbon. Dark blue. "Tie your hair up," he instructs me, tossing the string in my direction. Again I'm frowning, reaching to the ground where the ribbon has dropped. "If it comes down to close contact you don't want them to have anything to pull on."

"It's not going to come down to close contact," Proja growls.

"_Precautions_," Gale snaps at him. His eyes crawl back to me and watch as I pull my hair into a bun. "Things can turn to shit real quick in there. This is just in case." I nod. I understand. Gale glances out over the camp and then returns his gaze. "Ready?"

"You can still say no," Taftan whispers.

"Ready," I answer, completely ignoring Taftan. I can't say no. Not anymore. I have to do this. "Let's go."

* * *

Slipping under the fence wasn't hard. Following Gale on his path behind the crumbling buildings in the Seam wasn't hard. But this, standing here, about to enter the actual District, is entirely hard.

I can hear them. The low groans that claw up their throats. I can _smell_ them. The skin that decomposes as it falls off in chunks. My hands sweat despite the fact that the air is crisp and dry. I desperately want something to drink. I want something to tie over my mouth. Gale pauses where he stands, his head cocked as though he's listening to something.

Taftan takes this moment to walk over to me. His hand is gentle on my shoulder, spinning me back around to face him. "Always keep your voice down," he whispers to me. "Try not to talk at all. Watch where you step so you don't trip or crash into something." I swallow tightly and again wish for water. "Deep breaths. In through the nose out through the mouth. You can do this, Madge."

"Okay," I croak.

He lowers his hand and offers me a smile. "Proja and I have to do a few things," he murmurs. His fingers brush back a bit of loose hair from my bun and tuck it behind my ear. "Gale does anything to you, scream."

"He's not a bad guy," I sigh. I really do trust him with this. He isn't heartless. Most of the time.

"I know. But just in case. Scream, we'll hear you and come running, be there in seconds." My head jerks forward as he says this. Gale strolls back to us moments later and shoots them a look. "We're off. See you at the Justice Hall."

"Don't be late," Gale grunts.

"I'd hate to keep you waiting," Proja mutters. He braces himself for the run and tips his head at me, winking once. "C'mon, Taf."

"Stay safe," Taftan whispers. He pulls me into his arms quickly and squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe. "See you soon."

* * *

After Taftan and Proja disappear into the District it's just Gale and I alone. His eyes are constantly alert; he's in full out hunter mode right now. "We can get to your house by staying on the outskirts of the District," he whispers. His eyes never meet mine; they're constantly scanning the area. "But the Justice Hall is a different story."

"Okay," I nod.

Without any warning he starts to jog.

Gale is faster than I am, probably from the fact he's been doing runs ever since this whole thing went down. The longest time I've ever spent running was when we had to run the track during gym class, and neither Katniss nor I really bothered to go too fast. Gale knows that I'm slow and I know it physically pains him to have to go slower for me, but he does so without complaint and for that I'm thankful.

I keep my eyes on the ground behind Gale's feet. That way I don't trip. That way I don't see anything I don't want to. That way I never lose sight of him.

When he pauses I end up running into his back, jolting backwards at the surprise. My nose aches and I open my mouth to yell but Gale holds up his hand, instantly silencing me.

That's when I hear it. Curiosity is stronger than fear and I peek around Gale's shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath as the thing approaches us. It's a man, someone from town. His hair is both torn from his scalp and falling out, a dingy blonde that looks more gray at this point than anything. Eyes once blue and bright like mine are now faded and dim, like the sky right before a storm.

"Step back," Gale grunts.

Panic courses through me as I stumble a foot or two back. The man lumbers, off balanced. He's noticed us. Slowly is closing in. Gale swings up his bow and reaches for an arrow. He nocks it.

"Shoot," I hiss. But he doesn't. He waits. "Gale, shoot it!"

As my voice gets higher the creature in front of us becomes more alert, jerking up his head and picking up his pace. It's jaw unhinges and it's voice is low, starting as a grumble before climbing into a high pitched scream. Before it gets too loud Gale releases the arrow, sending it flying through the air into it's skull.

With a thud the man collapses to the ground, his limbs flying outward as it falls.

My eyes are locked on the man that's no longer moving or screaming or pressing forward. Black goop seeps from the wound on his head and I can't tear my eyes away.

"Madge," Gale places his hands on my shoulders. "_Madge_, look at me." I force myself to pull my eyes up to his and find that he's no longer in _hunter mode_. "Breathe," he whispers. His thumbs wipe under my eyes. "Don't cry. He's at peace now." I lift my hands to my eyes and find them wet when I pull away. "He's at peace," Gale repeats gently.

"I'm sorry," I whimper. "I—I just panicked, and—"

"Breathe," he says again. "I know you're stronger than that, Undersee." I blink a few times as his eyebrows quirk upward. "We're almost there."

"Get it faster next time," I choke out.

"Wanted to make sure I didn't miss," Gale says. After retrieving his arrow with a _crunch_ his hand finds my back and he steers me around the corpse. "I'm not as good a shot as Katniss. It has to be the brain or it doesn't fall." Eventually my head is in a yes. "Stop looking at it," Gale tells me, lifting my chin up and away. "You're psyching yourself out." He tugs on my hand and starts to jog, only releasing it once I match his speed. "Look familiar to you?" he asks.

Before I can answer we find ourselves stopping at the white gate that once lined my backyard. Technically, it still does. I stare down at it, running my fingers over the wood. The gardens are starting to overgrow into a tangle of yellowish weeds. The grass desperately needs to be trimmed.

I could stand here forever just staring. Wondering how things turned so awful so quickly.

Even from here I can hear their moaning, starving and despairing. If I squeeze my eyes shut tight enough it can dissolve into piano music.

"C'mon," Gale steers me toward the gate and throws an anxious glance over his shoulder. "Before they get too close."

* * *

My house is empty.

Muddy footprints have been tracked all through the parlor and inwardly I cringe. I know that my house would've been the first to be raided. We always had plenty of extra cans or food in the back of the cabinets. Always had extra supplies. Not in case of an emergency, just because.

Slowly I make my way through the kitchen. All of the cabinets are open and cleared out. The place is a mess. I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts and tear my eyes away. Next I stumble into the sitting room where my piano sits alone.

It's remained untouched. A small layer of dust is starting to build up on over the keys. Oh, how I long to press one. To listen to the note soar through the air. It would sound so out of place, especially now.

"I used to wait until you were done playing to knock on the door," Gale suddenly says. I jerk my head up and find him standing in the doorway, his hands in his back pockets. "Whenever I came alone." Gradually I lower my gaze back to the piano. I dip a finger down and wipe the dust off of a few of the keys, careful not to press a button down too far. "You were good."

"I _am_ good," I correct him.

Gale lets out a short breath. "Right." He hesitates. "Listen, we gotta—"

"I know," I murmur. There's no time to stroll down memory lane. No time to dilly dally. I push myself away from the piano and swallow down the past. My mother teaching me to play. My father applauding when I played the first piece for him. All gone. "Follow me."

Gale doesn't hesitate to lurch after me as I start up the stairs. They creak under our weight and I find myself smiling. When I was little they creaked too, and I was always be upset that I would never be able to sneak out because they were so loud. I've never snuck out before in my life, nor even thought about it.

We reach the next floor and I hurry down the hall. I pass my bedroom. I can't look in. If I do I won't be able to go on. I pass my mother's room. If I look in I'll start to cry. I make my way right into my father's office.

It's a mess.

"We, uh, kind of, looked around," Gale forces out. He awkwardly waits in the doorway again. "Trying to find information."

I can't blame him. I would do the same. But it's so _messy_ I can practically feel my father cringing.

"Down the hall, two doors to the right," I turn to Gale, "is my mother's bedroom. In the closet should be an entire wall of morphling." He looks at me confused, blinking slowly. "_Go get some_," I nearly growl. "Morphling can save lives. Mrs. Everdeen might need it someday."

Gale tips his head and then in moments he's off, pounding down the hallway.

I give myself a moment to breathe. With one sharp inhale I can smell my father, the scent of his pipe and his mint shampoo. And as I exhale, I say goodbye to him. I let him go forever.

It takes me a second to cross the room to his desk. Nothing is in order. It breaks my heart. He would never be able to work under these conditions so why do I have to? I slide open the top left drawer and force myself to breathe in a steady cycle. In. Out. In. Out. Under all of his usual files and pencils and calculators is a small box.

As I take it into my own hands it feels entirely too heavy. I set the red box on the desk in front of me and stare down at it. It isn't dusty because it's been concealed. It looks brand new. With a deep breath grab it again, and then slam it on the desk.

"Madge?" Gale's voice comes from down the hall. I ignore the panic that sizzled in his tone and slam the box down again. Once. Twice. "Madge," Gale says again. He's peeking back into the room in seconds. "What the hell?"

"Box is locked," I tell him. I return my eyes to the item in my hand. "Was." Gale narrows his eyes and lets out a deep breath. I pop open the lid and pull out the key. "All set." Gale nods. "Did you get the morphling?"

"Some," he says. "Can't take it all, it would be too heavy and we wouldn't have a place to put all of it." Gale steps into the room and eyes the box. "They used morphling on me after…" he hesitates. "After I was whipped."

"I know," I nod, "I brought it."

"Undersee, I—"

"Doesn't matter, Gale," I shrug. I shove the key into my pocket and force myself to stand. This is no time to talk about these sorts of things. "Let's go. We don't want to be late."

* * *

They're everywhere.

Some are much worse than others. Some are half eaten and reanimated. Some don't bother to get up off the ground and follow us.

But they're everywhere.

Gale keeps his hand firmly wrapped around my forearm. He doesn't speak. He just pulls me through the clumps of them. Everywhere I look, hazy eyes stare back. Ghosts of people I once knew. The owners of the candy shop. People from school. Greasy hair and grimy clothes stained with blood and dirt. Angry snarls that I'm alive and they're _not_ when they deserve to be. I don't get used to the scent. It only gets worse.

Their yellowing fingers stretch out for me, begging for me to join them. _It doesn't hurt anymore_, they tell me. _Nothing hurts anymore_. And I want to. Oh, God, I want to go with them.

My pace must slow a bit because Gale grips my arm even tighter. "_Not the time_," he grunts. "Just don't look."

But how can I not? I know these people. All of them. Whether I had once given them a medal for a fallen loved one or bought something in their stores, I have encountered every single one of them. Living. Breathing. What are they doing now? Existing? Are they still trapped in those brains, screaming for help? Are they still alive in some way? Pleading for salvation?

Before I know it Gale is practically dragging me up the Justice Hall steps. There's a small crowd of them following us by now, some faster than others. Their step-_drag _footsteps crash together in my head like a stampede and I find it getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Use the key," Gale demands, releasing hold on my arm. I glance up at him and he stares down at the pack that slowly closes in on us. Many of them have trouble with the stairs but not all are so slow. "Use it!"

"T-Taftan," I choke out. "And Proja."

They're supposed to be here. They're supposed to come inside with us. They're supposed to be waiting. Every bad scenario flashes through my brain but Gale only tips his head.

"They're smart, we'll find them after. They're fine." I force myself to swallow, scanning the crowd. What if they've turned into one of _them_? "Open the damn door, Undersee," Gale growls. "_Now_!"

I force it out of my pocket as quickly as I can and shove it into the lock on the front door. It takes some effort but eventually it clicks in place and the door swings inward swiftly. Gale rushes me inside, removing the key and dropping it into his pocket, and then slams the door behind us.

We're both panting by the time we're safe. The Justice Hall is dark and quiet. The only evident noise is from the freaks outside that continue to lumber up the steps. Dust filters through the air, shining wherever the light streams through the high windows on the wall.

Gale's eyes climb until they meet mine. "You okay?"

"Fine," I nod. I reach up and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. "Let's just get this over with."

* * *

_A/N: To the District! It'll obviously be continued next chapter. This story is a challenge for me because I'm a dialogue person and I'm trying to use more descriptions, so forgive me if the zombies aren't entirely terrifying. What do you think? Predictions? _


	7. Justice Hall

The Justice Hall is usually a quiet place. People work busily behind closed doors and don't bother to bustle about. It's a place where ceremonies are held for the fallen. It's a place where people sign up for tesserae. It's a place where the tributes of the Hunger Games say their final goodbyes.

But the quiet that it holds now is entirely different from before. It's too calm, too still. Dust has accumulated almost everywhere, and it's difficult to walk without coughing. There are no footsteps on the ground, indicating that there's no one in here.

"I always thought," Gale starts quietly, "that there would be people in here. Taking refuge." He swats at the air in front of him and clears his throat. "Guess not."

"No one would've been able to get in," I tell him. "And the first thing the Capitol does in a state of emergency is clear all of their men out. Peacekeepers."

Gale laughs coldly and shakes his head. "Explains why they weren't around when the world went to shit." No guns. No weapons. They left us at the mercy of the creatures that stormed the streets. "Bastards."

I almost want to tell him that they were just following orders, but I don't want Gale to think I'm defending them. Not all of the peacekeepers were terrible people, many of them were very kind. Especially if they allowed all the black market trading and illegal acts to go on for so long without reporting it. Of course there were a few nasty ones but that doesn't make all of them awful.

We turn the corner and I glance over at Gale. His eyes are on the ceiling, scanning every corner of the giant hallways. He's probably tracing the spider webs in his mind, picturing this place when it was clean and new.

"It looks the same," he mutters. I lift an eyebrow and pause at a door. "From when they gave us our metals for our fathers."

I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Nothing really changes in District 12." I extend my hand. "Key, please."

Gale digs into his pocket and pulls out the key, gently handing it over to me without letting our hands brush. I unlock the door with a sigh, listening to the locks clicking into place. I used to go to my father's office all the time when I was younger. He would give me a notepad and a pen and I would pretend like I was his secretary. I almost think about telling this to Gale just so there's some conversation but I know he would only scoff at me.

"Things were going to change, you know," Gale says. We pad into the room. I foolishly look for a light switch before remembering that the electricity doesn't work anymore.

"What do you mean?"

"You said nothing really changes in 12," Gale murmurs. His eyes scan over the room. The bookshelves and old chandelier. The large wooden desk. "But they were going to. I know it."

I suppose he's right, with the Quell that had been announced people were getting antsy. That, and the wages at the mines were nearly cut in half, and the electricity in the fence had been turned back on, and more and more people were starving to death every day.

"But would it have been a good change?" I ask him.

Gale's shoulders lift. "Doesn't matter anymore."

I want to yell at him. That's not what I was asking. But instead I make my way over to my father's desk carefully.

Behind his graying leather chair is an entire wall of monitors. Computers. Screens. They were once buzzing with lights. Images of other Districts, other mayors. Now they're coated in a layer of dust. Before I can stop myself my hand reaches up and swipes at one of them. Maybe if they're clean the pictures will come back. But they don't.

Gale clears his throat and I drop my hand. "You can see the front of the Justice Hall from here," I tell him, pointing to a window. "Maybe you should look to see if Taftan and Proja are coming." Gale grunts and strides over to the closest window, peeling back the blinds slightly. "Oh, keep that open a bit the light helps."

Gale widens the blinds, and while doing so helps me see much better it fills the room with even more dust. He coughs a bit and swats at the air again.

"They're not there," he says lamely.

I lower myself to my father's chair and force myself not to worry. They said they had something to do. They'll be here eventually.

"Just keep looking," I insist. Gale grumbles and returns his gaze to the window. I know he's itching to search for the files himself, but there's no doubt in my mind that he'll make a mess doing it. "Why do you hate them so much?"

The question slipped from me before I could even stop it. Gale jerks his head back to me and narrows his eyes. "I don't."

"Don't kid yourself."

Gale rolls his eyes and returns to glancing out the window. From where I sit I can see little movement, but I know not to look. It's only _them_ in their constant pursuit of something to destroy. I lower my gaze to the files on my father's desk.

On top is the evacuation notice for the peacekeepers, dated just a few days before it got really bad. "They're nice guys, Gale," I continue. I shift the file aside and look at the next one. "They took me in when no one else would." They believed me when no one else did. "Lost their mother and father during the outbreak. Barely have time to see Peeta."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Gale snaps. "More perfect Mellark's, how great."

I lift my eyes temporarily and find him gazing broodingly out the window. Again I focus on the files. One from District 4. Another from District 8. A brief scan from both of them leads me to believe that they have nothing to do with the virus outbreak, but rather the initial rebellions from the announcement of the Quell.

I finger through the papers on my father's desk and sigh. Tax reports. Income wages. A list of all the citizens in the District. I drum my knuckles on the desk and chew the inside of my cheek. I _know_ my father was in contact with the Capitol. But where would his papers be?

Suddenly an idea sparks in the back of my brain and I push myself away from the desk, listening to the wheels squeak as I roll. Gale tips his head toward me and looks at me with a confused expression but I wave my hand, telling him to stay put.

Quickly I rush into the room across from my father's office. There are file cabinets lining every wall. It's cramped and cluttered and very hard to see without the use of a light. More files, more tax reports, more useless information.

I let out a sharp breath and kick at the closest cabinet, groaning when pain shoots up my foot.

"You alright, Undersee?" Gale's muffled voice rings from the next room. I swallow my pride and march back into my father's office. "Find anything?"

"No."

Gale frowns and begins to look around the room. "Maybe a hidden safe?"

"No," I say again.

"Stored between pages in books? Shoved down in the desk?"

"_No_," I repeat.

"A briefcase?"

I pause. Of course. Of _course_! How had I been so stupid? I drop to the ground by my father's desk in search of the blasted black case and nearly laugh when I find it propped up against the side. A genuine smile stretches across my face as I pull it up and slam it down on the desk. Immediately I want to shout my thanks at Gale, but the way he's returned to staring out the window with a smirk leaves me feeling less than grateful.

Out of all the things that should have locks, this is one of them, and yet thankfully it doesn't. I pop back the latches and fling the case open, my eyes darting over the files that rest within.

_Symptoms: fever, nausea, dehydration, anxiety, discharge, swelling, sweats, chills and shivering, hallucination, tremors, loss of appetite, fatigue, bruising, chest pain, and insomnia. _

My eyes dart up to Gale as I find myself sweating. It sure is getting hot in here.

_Evolution: 1. Transfer. 2. Illness. 3. Death. 4. Reanimation and Change. Alternative: 1. Transfer. 2. Illness. 3. Change. No reanimation because there is no death. _

_Transfer: Unknown. Believed to be through physical contact. Not an airborne disease. Bites always result in transfer. Bites always result in death. Death always results in reanimation. _

"Did you find it?" Gale asks. I want to answer but I can't lift my gaze. I'm entranced.

_Afflicted Districts: District 1, District 2, District 3, District 4, District 5, District 6, District 8, District 10, District 11, District 12. Capitol remains unchanged. Districts 7 and 9 remain on thorough lock down. _

Gale's slowly moving from his spot over to me. I need to close the briefcase but I can't stop reading.

_Noted observations: All those bitten will change. Those who change before death are faster and more perceptive than those who reanimate after death. Cannot be killed through any means other than destruction of the brain. No observed recollection of previous life before the change. Experimentation in the Capitol continues to search for a cure. _

"Madge," Gale's hand finds the small of my back. He leans protectively over me and lets his eyes wander on the papers I'm reading. I want to hide them from him. Save them for myself. But I can't. "What…" he starts, but Gale gets just as consumed in the papers as I do.

_Mayor Undersee,_

_It is our understanding that the virus known as _Ignotus 72_ has taken hold in your District, along with many others in Panem. The most we can tell you about the virus is that it has stemmed from the aftermath of the 72__nd__ Hunger Games, in which the fallen tributes were reanimated as part of the final showdown between two tributes. How it has escaped the confines of the arena we're still trying to figure out, and at this point it remains a mystery. It was never created as part of a disease, and it's transformation into one is continuing to alarm our most hardworking scientists. _

_As a precaution it is suggested that you enforce a strict curfew over your citizens, as well as forbidding them to meet in groups larger than three at any given time. To halt the spread of this disease, do not encourage any types of physical contact whatsoever. At this point it just believed the virus will burn out its victims, but there have been a few strange stories in a few other Districts that lead us to take every precaution we possibly can. _

_At this point the 75__th__ Quarter Quell is still on. We are confident that a cure to this illness will be found in no time and things in the Districts will return to their usual routines. Contact with the Capitol will cease at this point. If there is any new information in which you shall need to be informed of it will be sent to you immediately. Thank you for your time and effort in keeping our country running smoothly. Thank you for contacting us._

_Signed, President Snow_

I slam the briefcase shut before I allow myself to look at anything else. Gale jumps at the noise and turns to glare at me, but I clamp the locks down before he can even get a word in.

"We can look at them later," I force out. Gale manages to tip his head into a nod. "I'll carry the case. You already have a backpack and your bow."

A sort of anger surges through me. This is _their_ fault! And it was all an accident! I suck in sharp breaths to keep myself calm but it doesn't help me much. My hands are sweating, my face is red. If it wasn't for their disgusting attempts to have us all fear the Capitol with their revolting Hunger Games I would still have my mother and father! I wouldn't be in this position right now!

And Snow, oh that bastard! He cut off contact with the Districts when he knew we were all going to fall to pieces. He _knew_ and he did absolutely _nothing_ to ensure the survival of his citizens! That greedy self-centered…

"Madge," Gale grabs my arm. Only now do I realize I've marched myself straight to front door of the Justice Hall. "Slow down," he orders, his voice stuck between sincerity and authority. "I get it, you're freaking out. I didn't even get to finish one of those stupid papers and I—" he cuts himself off and tugs one of his hands through his hair. "It's scary. But you need to calm down."

"Scary?" I shake my head and tighten my grip on the briefcase in my hand. "Scary doesn't even _begin_ to describe it!"

His left hand clamps down on my shoulder and his right lifts to tilt my chin. I want to jerk myself from his grip but I don't have the strength to do it. "We're still in the District," he reminds me carefully. "I can't have you throwing it all away now. We're halfway there." I force myself to nod. He releases his hold. "Alright. Good. Now let's go find your doting Mellark brothers and get out of here, okay?"

* * *

After slipping out through the basement of the Justice Hall and through an old room in which the deliveries were transferred, Gale and I find ourselves back in the District. Instead of the initial fear I had when we first saw these creatures I'm now filled with temporary _rage_.

It burns through me and gives me more life than before, allowing me to sprint past their outstretched arms and ignore their pleas to join them.

"Where would they be?" I murmur as we pause for air. Gale slings his bow around and takes down two freaks that linger near us. All the others are still a few paces behind. "Bakery?"

"That's my best bet," Gale nods. He slings his bow back around his arm and snatches the arrows from the fallen, shoving them back into his quiver. Before I can ask if those are the same arrows he uses to hunt our food down with he's sprinting again, leaving me to follow his paths.

We encounter more of them. Biters. Zombies. Whatever the hell you want to call them, they're all over. Gale nearly leads us into an army of them before diverting down an alley at the last minute. As we break for air and a chance to revel in the fact that we avoided our premature death, we hear a scream.

Gale jerks his head toward me as it to make sure I wasn't the one yelling. And then there's another, loud and terrified. A crash of something, a clatter. Gale can't tear his eyes from me and I'm scared to look away as well.

The only other people that we know of in the District are Proja and Taftan.

Gale reaches down and removes a knife from inside his boot. He thrusts it in my direction, his eyes wide and alert until I take it into my own hands. "Stay here," he growls.

We just narrowly avoided an entire _swarm_ of them. "Yeah, right!"

"Stay here," Gale repeats. He drops down the bag filled with morphling and leans it against the side of the ally wall. "I'll be right back."

"Gale," I grab his arm. Panic swims through my veins. "You can't leave me here." I cringe at how terrified I sound, but being left here alone in this infected District is not something I plan to do. "_Please_ don't leave me here."

His hands clamp down on my shoulders. "I'll be right back," he whispers. My head instinctively jerks side to side but Gale nods. "You have to trust me, Madge."

"B-but what if—"

"You have to trust me," Gale says sternly. His eyes are sharp and yet somehow sincere. "Just trust me," he pleads. Somehow I find myself nodding. Gale releases his grip on me and slings his bow around, swiftly pulling an arrow out of the quiver and nocking it with ease. He glances back at me. "I'll be right back. Just keep your hands on that knife. Do _not_ come for me. No matter what you hear. Okay?"

I want to yell at him. I want to ask _but what if you don't come back_? But instead I nod, and he nods, and then Gale's gone.

I crane my neck to listen to his footsteps until I can't hear them anymore. The sound of their growls and groans is so much louder with Gale's absence. I clutch the knife in my hand and spin in circles, constantly throwing glances over both of my shoulders to make sure nothing is coming.

I even try to count. Seconds. Minutes. I count the bricks on the wall next to be until I can't take it anymore. It's been too long.

My heart is heavy in my throat. What do I do? Before I can even formulate a response to this question I hear Gale's voice. "Proja, _no!_" he yells. "We have to go!"

In seconds I've swung Gale's backpack over my shoulders and taken a firmer hold of the briefcase and started toward the sound of Gale's voice. Out of the alley are a few of them. I'm not ready to face them. To sink a knife into their skull. I'm still weak no matter how strong I wish to be. So I continue to run.

An agonizing wail fills the air and it pinches me deep in my gut. It wasn't a noise these freaks are capable of making. That's a human noise.

Again Gale's voice rings out, "_We have to go!_"

"I'm his brother!" Proja screams back. "Give me your bow. _Give me your bow, Hawthorne!_" I pick up my pace until I reach the bakery. They've been so loud I'm not the only one who was able to find my way. "I have to do this!"

Before the entrance to the bakery is swarmed with those freaks I rush through the door.

I'm prepared to tell them to be quiet. I'm prepared to watch them fighting.

I'm not prepared to watch Proja, tears streaming down his face, launch an arrow into Taftan's skull.

Stumbling backwards I try to blink my vision straight. Gale's eyes meet mine and he launches himself toward me, catching me in his arms before I completely fall into the floor. "You shouldn't be here," Gale growls. He steers me for the exit but I can't tear my eyes from the boy on the floor.

Proja sinks to the ground next to Taftan's _body_ and tears the arrow from arrow from his brain with an audible cry.

"_Taft_—" I can't even form his name.

"He's gone," Gale whispers.

_"No!"_

"He's gone," Gale repeats, his voice quivering. Proja slams the arrow back into Taftan's head with a grunt and I cry out. "He was bitten." Still I shake my head no, shoving Gale away from me with all the strength I can muster. Taftan's lying in a pool of blood, obvious chucks torn out from places on his arms. "Madge," Gale tries to get me to cooperate. "Proja," he calls out. "We have to go."

"We can't _leave_ him like this!" I nearly scream. They'll get to him. They'll devour him in minutes.

Suddenly a pounding behind us gets all to freeze. Gale wraps his hand around my wrist and shakes his head, pulling me toward the back of the bakery. In the process he grabs Proja's shirt and pulls him to stand, ignoring the weepy mess he's become and dragging him along. We pass over Taftan. We escape out the back door. We're gone.

And I didn't even get to say goodbye.

* * *

_A/N: Taftan :c I warned you that this wasn't going to be a happy story. He's not the last of them to die either, just to tell you. Add him to the list of people Madge never gets to say goodbye to. Her mother and father are the others. There will be more. How'd you feel about some of the papers they got their hands on? What do you think will happen now? _


	8. Mourning

I find myself just as alone as I was on the very first night in camp.

Proja has taken all of his belongings and moved to where Peeta camps with the Everdeens'. The invitation has not been extended to me. I'm sure Peeta would offer me to join them (if he was able to speak to me for more than two seconds at a time) but I couldn't bring myself to accept if he asked. He's a mess. Every time I see him his eyes are red and swollen. He never holds my gaze. Proja won't speak with me.

I think they blame me for Taftan's death.

_I_ blame me for Taftan's death.

Though Peeta is good hearted and kind at the worst of times, I refuse to let him put himself in more pain just because I'm around.

So I stay by our spot near the lake, waiting for Taftan to come home late from a run and collapse in the sleeping bag next to mine. _See you soon_, he had said. The memory burns in my stomach. Katniss told me how it all had happened, how Taftan lost his life that day. She said Proja wanted to but couldn't, and I don't blame him.

Proja and Taftan had been scavenging for supplies. There were families at the camp that had requested photographs of their loved ones. They went back and collected them every chance they got. They thought it was unfair for anyone to have to go on without even a picture of their loved ones that were now dead and gone.

After the brothers had finished a neighborhood in the Seam they went back to the bakery. Said that the Justice Hall looked too overcrowded and didn't want to risk it. Ended up running straight into a pack of the freaks. They fought them off for a bit. Kept their distance. Got surrounded. Taftan was bit. Once. Twice. Couldn't keep them away.

Proja exploded and took out the ones around them before dragging Taftan the rest of the way to the bakery. His last words had been _I'm sorry_.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jerk my head, flinching at the contact. I haven't spoken to anyone since we've arrived. I think that was yesterday, or maybe two days ago.

I ease only when I realize it's Posy. Sweet, innocent Posy. Her hair is tied back in some sort of ribbon, and she wears a toothy smile. "Hi, Madge," she giggles. Posy plops down on the ground next to me. "Look, I got a ribbon like you!"

Out of instinct I reach my hand up. My hair is still tied into the bun I wore. Maybe it's been three days. I've hardly moved.

"It looks lovely," I say softly.

Her grin fades a bit and she looks out at the lake. "Momma said you're sad. Did you know the dead boy?" The air is sucked from my system and I choke back a sob. Posy doesn't lift her gaze to me but her hand finds mine. Soft and smooth. Tiny fingers. "It's okay to be sad, Madge," Posy says. "Will you come stay with us? You can be happy again!"

I sniffle and look toward the sky, trying to prevent myself from crying. "Um, no, Posy, I think I'll stay here."

"But you can be happy," Posy repeats. "Please come be happy, Madge."

"I don't deserve to be happy right now, Posy," I whisper.

Posy slings her arms around me and buries herself into my side. "Yes you do," she says. "You do deserve to be happy! We can make you happy!" I can't help but squeeze Posy closer to me, fighting off my tears and trying to focus on nothing but her. "_Please_, Madge?"

At this point I'm really crying, sucking back sobs as she latches herself to me. "I can't," I croak. "Posy, I can't." Suddenly, I'm pulling her away from me, jerking my head. "You have to go, Posy. You have to go, now." Posy opens her mouth to protest but I shake my head again. "Go."

With wide eyes and a quivering chin, Posy rushes away without looking back.

* * *

"Way to go, Undersee," a voice calls out. I don't turn my head. That doesn't stop Gale. He lowers himself to the ground next to me. "You broke my little sister's heart."

Something inside me cracks. I hadn't meant to hurt Posy. Not really. I just couldn't be with her at that moment. She doesn't need someone like me in her life. Someone who is constantly causing bad things to happen. She doesn't need someone who ruins everything. Someone who gets people killed.

"I'm joking," Gale adds after I don't respond. I want to say I inflate again but I don't. "She's okay. Mad at you, though."

"She has every right to be."

"For Christ's sake," he grunts. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

I jerk my head around and narrow my eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed, _Taftan's dead_." Gale remains calm, keeping his eyes locked with me. "He's dead and it's my fault and now no one will talk to me and I don't even _want_ to talk to anyone because it's my fault and—"

"What do you want me to do about it?" he snaps, cutting me off. "Run into the District and find you a cookie? Give you a hug?"

"Do _not_ treat me like a baby," I hiss.

"Why not? You're acting like one." Again I'm cracking, falling apart piece by piece. He has no right to talk down to me. "People die, Undersee. They always have and they always will. It's the beautiful circle of life." The sarcasm in his voice is palpable. With a forced breath I command myself to drop his gaze, looking away from him instantly. "If anything you should be happy he got out of this place without ruining himself first."

The silence between us is thick for a bit, but Gale doesn't leave. I want him to. I want him to walk away and never look back.

But instead I find myself talking. "It's my fault that he's dead."

"That's like blaming yourself for the Hunger Games," Gale mutters. "You weren't there when it happened. You couldn't have stopped it."

"But I _could have_," I whimper. I drop my head into my hands and rub at my temples. "I didn't want them to come with us. I knew I shouldn't have let them, and I still did and now—"

"Taftan would've come even if you had said no," Gale tells me. "And Proja would've been with him because he likes to spite me. So no. You had nothing to do with it." I clutch at the ground and try to steady my breathing. Why doesn't he get it? Why doesn't he understand that no matter what he says, _I_ am the reason Taftan's gone? Proja won't look at me, Peeta tries to be civil but I know it hurts. "People have always died," Gale says again. "They're not going to stop now just because the world's gone to shit."

"It shouldn't have happened like that."

"But it did," Gale grunts. "And moping around isn't going to help anyone. Not him. Not you." He drags his left hand through his hair and gazes out over the lake. I can sense his hesitation. "I know you were close. I meant to come by earlier."

Slowly, I tip my head back to Gale. He's still staring out at the lake. "Why?"

"Because I feel like you're my responsibility, Undersee, and I want to make sure that you're okay."

"I'm not your responsibility, Gale." And I am most definitely not _okay_.

"I know." Again there's hesitation. "But you saved my life." This is not what I'm expecting. His eyes stay firm on the water though I wish he would look at me. I wish he would say something else. I wish he would explain himself. "Morphling, Undersee. Without it I would've," he rubs eyes. "I would've died. Mrs. Everdeen told me so."

"That's not true," I force out. It can't be true. Gale wasn't on the verge of death. I was just doing what I thought was right. "You're lying."

"I'm not," Gale shrugs. "Why do you always have to make things so difficult? I could _feel_ it. I knew my time was up. That I caused my own downfall." He pauses and turns to me, seeing if I'll accept this answer. But I don't. "They say you see a light when you die and dammit, I saw it. But it was gone before I could reach it."

"That doesn't mean—"

"I woke up and they told me about the morphling. Said it saved me."

Now it's my turn to hesitate. Again he looks away.

"But you saved my life too," I finally counter. More than once. During the outbreak when he stopped them from getting me. When he pulled me back to camp before I ran into the District. He had my back when we went in, too. "So we're even."

"We can't be even on something like that," he says plainly. "It's not about being even. It's not even about repaying a debt." I can't tear my eyes from him. He looks so focused, so calm staring out at the lake. And for about the thousandth time I want to yell at him. I'll never understand how he works. Why he says what he says or why he acts like he does. Before I can tell him not to worry about me, he changes the subject. "I'm going on a run tomorrow," he says.

He still won't look at me. "You can't."

"I can, I have to, and I'm going to."

"You _can't_," I repeat again. I need glue. Or tape. Or something that will hold me together. "Gale, have someone else go!" He tilts his head at me as my voice cracks. "There are plenty of capable people!"

"No there aren't," he grunts.

"You can't," I choke out. Now it's _me_ who drops our gaze. I can still feel his steely stare on me. Gray burning against my skin. "You _can't_. Not after Taftan."

"I'll be back," Gale tells me. His hand tentatively reaches out before dropping down to my shoulder. Out of instinct I shrug it off, and then turn and push him away. "I'll be _back_," Gale says again, narrowing his eyebrows as though I've just slapped him.

And for some reason that just makes me angrier. I shove him again. Pushing at his shoulder, hitting at his chest.

"Just _go_," I hiss. "Go and join the rest of them!"

I reach my hand up to hit him again when he encircles my wrist, holding it up in the air above me and causing me to freeze. I try to pull away but he holds tight, watching me with a guarded expression. Irritated that he's restraining me I bring around my other hand, attempting to smack him, only he catches that one too.

Tears of frustration and desperation form in my eyes but he doesn't let me go. He pulls me closer. He hugs me against his chest.

"I'll be back," he murmurs. The warmth of his embrace fights against my darkness, trying to bring me back to the surface. I don't let it. Gale's hands smooth my hair and he cradles me closer, dropping his voice down to a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." My body shakes in quiet sobs but he doesn't let go once. His hold doesn't falter. "I promise I'll be back."

* * *

I force myself to remain busy. I force myself not to think of Taftan. His playful demeanor or childlike eyes that were always so optimistic. His gentle voice. His thoughtful personality. The older brother I never had. I shove him from my thoughts and refuse to admit that he still lingers. I squeeze him into the past though he longs to stay.

I spend the day with Katniss. We walk around camp and talk about things that aren't Taftan. I see the pity in her eyes. The bags that hang under them. I wonder if she blames me too.

"I read a few of those papers," she tells me, "the ones that you brought back." Though I don't exactly want to talk about that journey into the District I'm open for this conversation. "I don't understand most of it but Haymitch has been explaining it. We've been talking about what to do from here."

My head tips into a slight nod. Katniss juggles so much. Not only does she hunt for our food most days but she takes watch at night to make sure none of them cross the fence. That, and she works alongside Peeta and Haymitch to make decisions for the whole community. A lot is on her shoulders.

"Anything important?"

"Not really," she shrugs. "Not now. As long as the freaks haven't breeched the fence we're safe. And we need the supplies from the District so it's not too bad."

Again my head tips. Gale is in there now. Along with Proja, who refused to listen to Peeta's pleading and stay back. I add that to the list of things to force from my head. Ever since my trip into the District I've woken up screaming in the middle of the night. Their faces are much more recent in my memory. Much more vivid. And now I have no Taftan to console me.

With a shudder I think back to Katniss right here, watching me with a hunter-like stare as though trying to approach a wounded animal.

I turn away and wipe at my eyes with the back of my palm. She doesn't need to comfort me. When I turn back, her stare has dropped.

"Anything interesting in the, uh," I cough to clear my throat, "in the papers?"

"Nothing you don't already know, probably," Katniss says. She digs the toe of her boot into the dirt. "Most of what we have is transactions with other Districts. When the Capitol said they were cutting communications they really did. Your, um, your dad sent a few more messages but they never responded. He mostly spoke with District 4 and District 11."

I try to swallow the pain that leaps forward. He was friends with their mayors. Spoke to them often.

Katniss extends her hand and rests it gently on my shoulder. Though I'm still not up for being touched, this contact is much more welcome than when Gale had done the same. Katniss is a friend.

"I'm sorry about your family, Madge," she says softly. Before I can even speak she says, "Peeta doesn't blame you for Taftan. He doesn't. He's just hurting."

"I don't want to talk about it," I say.

My shoulders shrug and her hand falls away. Of course Peeta doesn't blame me. He never blames anyone for anything. Katniss doesn't understand this. She didn't see Taftan's body on the ground. She didn't see the skin torn from his arms. She didn't see his pools of blood. She's had her own fair share of nightmares but this is one she won't be haunted by.

I walk away without a goodbye.

* * *

The nightmares get worse.

It's not as though I expect them to get any better, really, especially now, but I hadn't even considered them getting _worse_.

Without Taftan by my side, or even _Proja_ nearby, I am utterly and completely alone. There is no one to wake me from my fits. There is no one to coax me back to sleep. There is no one to promise me that I'm safe, that I'm still breathing.

I have offers to join others. The Everdeens. The Mellarks. Over with the only Cartwright left. I just don't have it in me to accept. If I do so I burden them with my fears. I climb onto their shoulders and weigh them down. An extra responsibility in this world that is already entirely too dark.

I start shoving my fist in my mouth again to keep myself quiet. I bite down on my hand to keep from screaming. In the mornings I wake with marks on my hand, sometimes dried blood. I'm falling apart. I'm falling _apart_ and no one wants to piece me back together.

Tonight is no different. I wake with a scream with the moon still high in the sky. Four days? Five? How many has it been since Taftan was stolen from this earth? I can't keep track anymore. The bags under my eyes get heavier as I stare into the night. I used to think the stars were beautiful and now they only mock me.

To steady my breathing I try to close my eyes. It doesn't help, for with every bit of darkness I see someone's face after they change.

As my eyes flutter back open, unable to face the darkness again, I notice someone moving.

My first thought is that it's one of them. A creature of the downfall of humanity. But of course, we have people on watch. And it isn't a freak. So I roll onto my side, away from the person lumbering through the night.

But then the atmosphere shifts. They don't walk past me, they stop and lower themselves to the ground behind me. A tossed blanket lands with a thud and a pillow follows shortly after that. Moments after that the person is on the ground as well, staring up at the sky.

I'm almost scared to turn. But I have to. I have to see who it is.

After realizing Gale is the one beside me I can't figure out what to say to him. My voice is caught in my throat. I expect him to start yelling at me about something but instead I find that he looks relaxed. His hands behind his head and his hair messy from sleep. There is no malice in his pose. No anger or annoyance. He doesn't even look tired, really.

"What are you doing here?" I finally croak.

Gale tips his head in my direction before returning to staring at the sky. "Laying."

"That's obvious but—"

"Then why did you ask?"

"—why are you doing it _here_?" Gale doesn't turn toward me; he only lets his eyes drift shut. Anger bubbles up from within and I force myself into a sitting position. What is he _doing_! Why can't he just leave me alone? "I don't _want_ you here, Gale," I say firmly. "Go back to your family."

"Just lay down and go to sleep, Undersee," Gale murmurs. I stare down at him, completely dumbfounded, and wait for him to move. "You can yell all you want but I'm not going anywhere."

I suck in a deep breath and lift my hands to my forehead, lightly rubbing at my temples. "You are so _annoying_," I grit out. I think he smirks. It's too dark to tell. "Fine, if you won't move then I will."

I shift off of my blanket and grip it tightly in my hands, tugging it across the ground and away from him. Gale opens one of his eyes and peeks over at me, his smile most definitely growing at this point. But I don't care. I collapse onto my sleeping supplies and roll onto my side, facing away from him and intently staring away. After a few moments of silence I hear him moving, and when I roll around to check he's already next to me again.

_"Gale,"_ I warn. I'm in no mood for games tonight. I'm running on maybe five hours of sleep total.

"Just act like I'm not here," he says with a yawn.

I take another deep breath and roll back, facing the sky much like he is, only now his eyes are closed. "Why?" I whisper.

Gale's shoulder's lift slightly. He still doesn't open his eyes. I hate how indecipherable he is. Or maybe he's like an open book and I've just forgotten how to read. After I think he's fallen asleep I turn to look at him, only to find that he's reopened his eyes and is staring at the stars. I watch him a moment, wondering if he knows I can see him. The soft curve of his nose and the outline of his jaw, dark against the sapphire night sky. Even now I can see the light glisten in his near-silver eyes.

His chest rises and falls slowly with every breath he takes, and it's the most constant thing I've seen in a very long time. Like when I was younger and my mother would hold me in her arms as we swayed back and forth on her rocking chair. A motion that would often lull me to _sleep_…

* * *

_A/N: I hope it's making sense as to where Gale's responsibility of Madge falls into place. Also I hope that you're able to understand Madge's grieving process. It's not like she's trying to be a brat or rude, she just is. Thoughts are always appreciated!_


	9. Reconciliation

When I wake, Gale is gone. There's no sign that he had even shown up in the middle of the night, and I end up convincing myself that I imagined the entire thing. Running on just a few hours of sleep I'm clearly hallucinating. I sit up and rub at my eyes until my vision is straight again.

Everyone in the camp is chowing down their breakfast. Apples. Like always. I wonder what we'll eat for breakfast when we run out.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Posy chomping on her own apple. I decide to stay where I am. Skip breakfast. I can wait for dinner, considering we're all only running on two meals a day anymore. Someone else can have my share. Someone else deserves it.

Instead of getting up I collapse backwards onto my pile of blankets. I could use a few more hours of sleep. I won't get them, but I could certainly use them.

I consider rolling over on my side but before I can, I hear footsteps. Thinking maybe it's Gale ready to explain himself from last night (if I hadn't imagined it and he actually _did_ stay the night next to me), I sit up. And find myself face to knee with Proja.

My eyes climb up his figure slowly, almost terrified of what will happen when our gazes lock. Before that can happen he drops himself down to the ground next to me. Proja keeps his face turned away from me and yet he still thrusts an apple in my direction.

"Eat it," he murmurs. "You've skipped breakfast four days in a row; I'm not letting you do it again." Somehow I manage to grab the apple from him and weigh it in my hands. "Eat it, Madge," he growls.

Almost instantly I lift the apple to my mouth and take a bite, cringing as my teeth sink into the juicy fruit. I have to do what he tells me to. I owe him that. We sit in silence. He doesn't speak again until I'm completely done with my apple. Proja turns to me, studying me for a few moments before opening his mouth to speak.

I wonder what he sees. A shell of a broken girl. Maybe it pleases him to know I'm hurting too. Maybe it makes him feel worse.

"What happened to Taftan," he starts weakly. Proja looks so much like his older brother right now. Concerned and conflicted. Blue eyes filled with sadness and somehow still some hope. "What happened to him wasn't your fault," he says. "It wasn't mine either. It wasn't anyone's."

"You don't believe that," I choke out. Proja tips his head to look at me, staring through his sandy bangs. He needs a haircut. "You're not like your brothers; you don't give the benefit of the doubt."

Proja frowns. "I'm _trying _to believe it wasn't our faults," he nearly hisses. "I'm _trying_ not to blame you."

"But you do," I note. I balance the apple core on the tips of my fingers and keep my eyes focused on it. "It's okay."

"He wouldn't want me to blame you," Proja says carefully. His voice cracks. He drops his head into his hands and tugs at his hair. "Taftan wouldn't pin it on you if it had happened to me. I want to respect that. Respect what he would've wanted." I drop the apple and it lands on the ground with a soft thud. I want to comfort Proja and at the same time I want him to comfort me. This isn't fair. None of this is fair. "I don't know what to do," Proja whimpers. "He was my _best_ _friend_."

Tears are filling my eyes before I get the chance to stop them. "I shouldn't have let you come into the District," I sob. My chin quivers and I drop my head into my hands much like Proja has. "I should've made you both stay!"

"He would've gone anyway," Proja tells me, sniffling once and glancing in the other direction. "Cared a lot about you. Didn't… didn't want you getting hurt." Suddenly I feel his hand on my shoulder and I snap up so quickly I feel off balance. I blink a few times and try to get the tears to go away but Proja just stares at me. "Taftan, he uh," he hesitates, "I think he liked you."

"What?"

Proja's shoulders lift and he shakes his head. "Never really said so but I never saw him care about anyone like he did you. More than a sister." My jaw drops and I blink, watching Proja shrug. "Talked about you nonstop. Always wanted to get something in the District for you. Maybe he just didn't like how alone you felt out here, but I always thought…" Proja trails off. "He'd slip extra cookies into your bag at the bakery, you know that? Just one or two. Sometimes Mom would notice and get… mad."

Instantly everything inside of me snaps. There's no hope holding out for glue or tape. It just shatters. Nothing left to hold me together.

Taftan… had _liked_ me. He risked his life in the District to make sure I was safe and ended up losing the battle. For _me_. It's my fault after all. It's always been my fault. Sobs wrack my body as I collapse into my knees, squeezing them as close to me as I can and trying to block Proja out. I should've seen it. The soap. Waking me up every night when I was having nightmares. Always holding my hand. He _liked_ me.

And now I'll never get to know if I liked him. I don't get the chance.

Proja scoots closer to me and envelops me in his arms; I'm too weak to force him away. His embrace is so much like Taftan's. Too comforting and too warm and too filled with light in this dark place. And then he's crying too, squeezing me as though he can make me stop crying.

"I'm so sorry," he whimpers. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I tried _so hard _to _save him_." I want to respond but I can't, all words are dead in my throat. He just pulls me closer. "It wasn't your fault," he nearly growls. "It wasn't, Madge. Don't you _ever_ think that, okay?"

"_Proja_—"

"It wasn't," he says again. The blonde pulls away and grabs my cheeks, forcing me to look up and face him. "Do you understand?"

"Then i-it wasn't yours e-either," I manage to squeak. He hesitates and again confliction fills his gaze. "_Please_, Proja."

But he doesn't answer; he just wraps me in his arms again. We stay like that for a very long time.

* * *

Proja comes by that night with dinner, thrusting the can into my hands before I can even protest. We make short conversation about little things. Peeta and Katniss. How much more he's learning about those documents now that he's staying with them. That's when he extends the offer to me.

"You know you can always stay with us," he says awkwardly. I don't know if he really means it or not. "There's plenty of room." And I'm sure there is. Camp is a huge field. There's room everywhere. "You don't have to stay over here. I don't know how you _can_."

It's simple. Because I don't want to burden anyone else.

"I'm alright here," I tell him weakly. I sort of like the solitude. I like to look over and see where Taftan had once rested, even if it pains me. "Thank you, though."

He frowns. "Don't make me carry you." And oddly enough, a laugh escapes me. Proja's lips quirk upward for a moment. He looks nice like that. Smiling. Even before all of this I found it rare to see him smiling. He's always been the toughest of the three brothers. More strict. Less forgiving. "I saw Gale come over last night," he eventually adds. The announcement startles me. "I didn't know that you two…"

"We're not," I blurt out. Not friends. Definitely not anything _more_ than friends. "I don't know why he came over. Honestly." Proja shrugs and takes my empty can from me. "You don't like him."

"Not at all," Proja mutters. "Asshole." And again I laugh. And again he smiles. "Petty reasons," he says after a few seconds. "Things in high school I'm not willing to forget. Not even now."

"Like what?" I can't help but ask.

"He stole my date once or twice," Proja says, rolling his eyes. "Everyone wanted the rebel from the Seam. Preferred his _dashing good looks_ over some measly baker." I nudge him with my elbow and watch him smile again. "We had… unspoken competitions. Trying to get girls. Trying to be the first to answer in class. Like I said, petty things."

"Why not forget?" I wonder. "You two work together now when you have to go in the District, right?"

"He's got good aim and is quick on his feet," Proja says, "I'll give him that." Again I nudge him. "Had to do a lot with Peeta too, you know. That kid's been in love with Katniss since the beginning of time, and then Gale was always cock-blocking." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Family resentment. Peeta's my brother, you know how that is."

I've never had a sibling, but I can imagine the type of feelings they share so I nod.

"But Peeta got the girl," I point out.

"Barely," Proja snorts. "Nearly died for her, too. About time she came to her senses." Both of our eyes travel up to where Peeta and Katniss sit closely on a log near the fire. He keeps whispering something to her, causing Katniss to smile brightly. The flames that flicker are illuminating their faces. It's not the first time fire has made them look beautiful together. They're a pair. "I'm glad he has her," Proja says softly. "I feel like everyone's falling apart but he… he's got her and that's enough to keep him strong."

"And you?" I ask.

His shoulders lift. "I'm working on it." He tips his head and glances at a girl who sits alone. I have to blink a few times before realizing it's Delly. "It's hard to help other people put themselves together when you're all over the place yourself."

"You could help each other," I say. After a pause, "Delly?" He nods. "Interesting."

"She spent so much time in the bakery because she was such good friends with Peeta," he rambles, "you know that. Almost as much time as you." He rakes one of his hands through his hair. "One time she saw a burn that Mom gave me. Started freaking out. Wouldn't let me do anything until she cleaned it up a bit." Proja shrugs again. "At times like that she was always so… bright. Even now, how she smiles at everyone…"

"Then go to her," I say. Everyone needs someone right now. Except, well, me, who's better off alone. "You know you want to."

Eventually Proja smiles a bit and nods. He lifts himself to his feet and tips his head at me, taking my can over to the dishes to be cleaned for tomorrow before marching off to find Delly. The girl shrinks away at first but even from where I sit I can see her smile. They'll be good together, I think. Balance each other out. I watch the two for a bit before realizing how creepy that is and sinking down onto my blankets.

I lay there for a while just thinking about things. The sun, and how it continues to rise every morning. The stars, and how bright they are out here. I could never see them from my home in the District. I think about Gale, too, and it's as though he knows it. Because it's not even dark yet before he's throwing his sleeping supplies down next to me.

I shift onto my elbows to watch him. Vastly out of place. The camp is still alive tonight. People whispering back and forth about God knows what. Some still finishing their dinners. Somewhere someone is strumming a guitarlike instrument.

But Gale is here, lowering himself down on top of his sleeping gear.

I bite my lip and relax onto my back again, forcing myself to stare at the sky. I want to say something. But what is there to say?

Finally I get the courage to roll onto my side and look at him. Gale's got his hands behind his head again and is looking up at the sky. It really is beautiful, the way the oranges and reds bleed into the purples of the night. His eyes dart back and forth, absorbing every color of the sunset.

"Stop staring at me," Gale murmurs.

The sound of his voice shocks me and I blink a few times, watching as he tips his head in my direction. I'd like to say that he smiles, but I'm still not entirely sure what Gale looks like when he's smiling.

"You're back," I force out. "Why?" Gale's shoulders lift slightly and he's back to looking at the sky again. "I need an answer, Gale."

"I don't have one," he says.

I drum my fingers on the ground below me and pull my gaze from him with some effort. I decide to focus on the sunset as well, slowly watching as stars peek out from the darkness as the oranges fade entirely. Gale isn't really one for conversation, especially with me, but I can't just deal with the fact that he's here next to me and need to figure it out.

"Gale," I start.

"Mmm."

"Why don't you like Proja?"

The question hangs in the air for a bit. I understand Proja's reasons. I'd like to understand Gale's. I think in a different life they could be friends. And fortunately for them, this is now a different life.

"He do something to you?" Gale finally asks. "Saw him over here earlier. More than once. If he—"

"No," I cut him off. I'm not sure if I like Gale like this. Defensive over me. Taftan was like that. Gale isn't allowed to be. Gale isn't allowed to care. Gale isn't allowed to be here. "I was just wondering."

"He's an asshole," Gale finally mutters.

"Funny. Said the same thing about you." Gale snorts and rolls on his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at me. I resist the urge to meet his gaze and force my eyes to stay on the sky. I won't give Gale that satisfaction. "It's a shame, really, because you two would get along so well."

"Don't push it, Undersee."

"You would," I insist. They're very similar. Have the same thoughts, act the same way. Both too stubborn to bend. "If you won't tell me that, at least tell me why you feel to need to be here." Gale shifts in his spot and then rolls onto his back again. "I've already told you, Gale, that I'm _not _your responsibility so don't you _dare_—"

"You're not the only one who has trouble sleeping," Gale finally reveals. It sounds more eloquent than anything he's ever said before. It startles me into silence. "That's all I've got."

That's all I needed to hear.

* * *

The nightmare comes so quickly I only remember it in fragments. My scream is so loud it's physically painful. I feel needles pricking every section of my skin. I feel ice shattering my bones.

"Madge, _wake up!_"

Someone is forcefully shaking my shoulders and throwing their hand over my mouth.

"It's okay," he whispers. "Be quiet, it's okay."

My body is still shaking, after-effects of the terror. He drops his hand.

"You're safe," Gale says. His hands cup my cheeks. "Look at me. You're safe. Can you hear me?" I jerk my head into a nod and draw in a sharp breath. "You're safe," he says again. "Nothing's going to get you. It was just a bad dream, that's all. Lay back down." My head tips side to side and I suck in another sob. I need to do something. I need to go somewhere. I need— "It's okay," Gale murmurs, pulling me into his arms.

My face ends up somewhere on his chest, tears staining his shirt as he holds me. One of his hands strokes my hair gently as the other clutches my back. I try to focus on his breathing. Match it with mine. In. Out. Slowly. Repeat. I listen to his heartbeat, oddly fast for how deep his breathes are.

"I'm sorry," I mumble against his chest. Sounds more like _mshary._ I tilt my head so I can speak, my cheek against his shirt. "I don't know how to make it _stop_."

"Not your fault," he breathes. His fingers curl through my hair. "Don't apologize. Okay?" Somehow I manage to nod. Gale lowers me back down to my blanket and then grabs his stuff, pulling it right up next to mine. No space. Our blankets overlap. "I'm right here."

Gale stretches his hand out across the small distance and envelops mine entirely. His fingers lace with mine without hesitation.

Our eyes stay on each other for a moment. His gray ones are much more silver than I remember them to be. Much more filled with compassion than I thought possible.

"Don't go anywhere," I whisper. "Please."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmurs. Gale inches closer across the blankets and drapes his hand over my waist. "Get some sleep."

His touch sends waves of heat through my body, like an electrical current that isn't as sharp. He traces designs on the back of my shirt. I bury my face into his chest and listen to him breathing. In and out. In and out.

"Tell me a story," I whimper. A daring request. This is Gale Hawthorne. This is not Taftan Mellark. Gale doesn't care about me like this. And yet…

"Only if you promise to try and sleep," he says back. I nod, hitting my forehead on his chest. His hand on my waist tightens its grip. I feel so small in his arms like this. I feel… safe. "The first time my dad took me into the woods," he whispers, "I was only 9. He showed me everything. The roots of trees. Birds' nests. Flowers." I close my eyes and try to picture it. A younger version of Gale following his father through the woods. "He didn't let me see any of the snares no matter how many times I asked. He told me I was too young." His hand resumes tracing designs on my back. "I remember the first animal we saw. A rabbit. He told me to stand still and just watch it, so I did."

"I asked, 'What's the point of this?' I was a kid. I didn't understand. He said to me, 'What do you hear?' I didn't know what he meant. I shrugged. Told him I heard birds. Told him I heard the wind. He said, 'Listen closely.' I really tried hard, you know? Wanted to impress my dad. So I listened really hard and I still didn't hear anything. My dad said, 'To be a hunter you have to hear _everything_. You have to listen past the birds and the wind and hear the footsteps of a rabbit. You have to hear the scurrying of a squirrel.' It took me years before I could do that."

His words start to get hazy. "He didn't show me a snare until I was older. Didn't teach me how to make them either, I had to teach myself. He helped a bit, I guess, for as long as he could anyway," Gale continues softly. "I spent weeks just _listening_ to everything I could possibly hear. I spent so much time learning how to listen sometimes… sometimes I think I forgot how to talk. Forgot what to say when I needed to."

"No," I yawn. "You're good at talking."

Gale chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Agree to disagree." I nuzzle closer to him, desperately trying to absorb his warmth, and listen to him sigh. "I never know what to say to you."

I fall asleep before I can ask him what he means.

* * *

_A/N: I will be gone all week and won't be able to update, so I wanted to leave it off at what I thought was a decent moment! More on Gale later. I wanted Proja and Madge to talk, both of them blaming themselves. He's no Taftan but he is Proja and still a Mellark with love in his heart. Morning will sure be awkward between Madge and Gale though, huh? All snuggly like that..._


	10. Understand

Again I awake alone, only something is different this time. I'm drowsy. Lacking sleep. Still _tired_ and wanting to curl into a ball. I remember being warm in the middle of the night, and now I'm cold.

Gale's gone. But his things are still here. Pillows and blankets all close to mine.

I reach out, my fingers patting at the morning dew that's formed on his pillow, just to make sure that it's really there. And it is. I prop myself up on my elbows and find it still early. I do a quick scan for Gale and find him absent, as well as many others. It makes my heart squeeze in my chest, a feeling I'm not entirely too comfortable with. Something like worry. Something like emptiness.

Morning run into the District is my best guess. I have to accept this.

I'm alright with that as of right now, actually, as long as I can ignore the funny feeling tingling through my veins. Waking up next to Gale Hawthorne is not something I'm mentally prepared for. I can't help but feel as though our next conversation will be a tad awkward after what he did.

And what exactly did he do?

He comforted me. He crossed the line that Taftan never did. Held me until I fell back asleep.

_Gale Hawthorne_.

With a large amount of effort I force myself into a sitting position and rub at my eyes. It doesn't make any sense to me, not really. All my life he's detested me. Hated everything I ever stood for. And now? I don't even have the strength to think about it.

Somehow I manage to make it all the way to breakfast. I think I owe Proja that. Gale too, I guess. Which still doesn't make sense to me, but I continue to think it anyway.

In the midst of the crowd I find Posy and Vick sitting together and taking small bites of their apples. Posy makes a sour face but swallows the fruit anyway, staring down at the apple as though she hates it. I hate apples too. Nothing but the small green fruits for the past few weeks for breakfast. It's driving me a bit off the wall.

I try not to think of all the wonderful food I had for breakfast back in the District. Back then I hated the food. I hated it because everyone else was bitter about it. Because I had a surplus to eat when no one else did. But now, oh the fluffy waffles and sweet syrup…

"Can I sit here?" I ask, gesturing to the spot by Vick and Posy. Posy wrinkles her nose and turns her face away, and after watching his sister so does Vick. "Well, no one said _no_ so I guess…" I plop myself down in the spot next to Posy. The little girl glances back at me before spinning away entirely, her back to me. I sigh, lifting my own apple and taking a bite. "Posy," I start softly.

"No."

I sigh again. "I didn't mean to upset you," I continue anyway.

"_No_," she says again.

"I know you're mad at me and I want to say sorry."

Again she glances back. This time it's only a whisper, "No."

"What can I do so you won't be angry with me anymore?"

Posy stares at me for a very long time. For a moment I almost think her tiny gray eyes are filling with tears, but then her shoulders shrug upwards. "You can help with laundry," she tells me pointedly. The answer surprises me I almost laugh, but then I remember this is Posy I'm dealing with and tip my head into a slight nod. "We have a lot to do," Posy continues. She finishes her apple quickly and then stands, gesturing for me to follow her. Posy looks down at Vick and frowns. "Are you _coming_?"

"I'm not doing laundry!" the little boy says, crossing his arms. "My fingers get wrinkly!"

I really do laugh this time, pushing myself to stand and following after Posy quickly. I scarf down the rest of my apple and chase the little girl through camp, collecting cleaning supplies and her family's dirty clothes before we make our way to the stream.

* * *

By the end of the day it's as though nothing had changed. Posy and I are laughing together over our wrinkly fingers and making a plan to scare Vick with them. I wish I could be a child again, or wish that everyone had the same mentality that she does. Forgiving easily. Loving without fault.

Posy falls in the stream once or twice and gets her hair wet and allows me to braid it, telling me all about how she wishes her hair was curly like mine.

"Trust me, Posy," I tell her. My fingers weave in and out through her hair. "Your hair is a blessing." Nice and straight. Not messy in the morning. Slick and smooth. Not only that but I had always wished I had darker hair. The blonde that bounces around me often felt like a curse. I reminded Haymitch and my mother of Maysilee. I reminded the people from the Seam that I wasn't one of them. I always hated it. I think I always will.

"But it's not like _yours_," she whines. I finish the braid and tie it tightly with a ribbon. Posy spins around and tugs on the braid. "Thank you, Madge!"

"No problem," I say with a slight smile. I look up toward the crowd of boys making their way toward camp and realize that everyone's home. The boys are back from the run. I seek out Gale first, and a bubble or relief pops within me when I spot him. He looks tired. Worn down. But he's alive. Only then do I remember to check for Proja as well, who is only a few paces behind him. "Come on, Pose," I pull her to her feet. "It's getting late."

We walk toward where the Hawthorne's are staying and she never lets go of my hand. I wonder if this is what it feels like to have a younger sibling. To feel protective over someone, to _love_ someone for no reason other than you just _do_.

"Madge," she says softly. "Will you stay with us now?"

The question pauses me. I pull us to a pause and lower myself down to my knees. Her eyes are wide and expectant. Optimistic, even. I realize I may be about to crush her again and that crushes me as well.

"Not yet, Posy," I respond. She drops her gaze and nods. "Maybe soon."

"Are you still sad?" she asks weakly. I nod. She lifts her eyes. "I know we can help you," she tries desperately. "We can help you be happy, I _know_ it."

"I know it too," I tell her. I lift my hands and place them gently on her shoulders. "You already are." My day with Posy has been the best. Even if it _was_ just doing laundry. I smiled. I _laughed_. I felt… different. "But I'm not ready yet."

"You still yell at night," Posy sniffles. Her tiny chin quivers and her optimistic eyes are now gloomy and dark, filled with tears. "I hear you sometimes."

"That's why I can't come yet," I whisper. "I don't want you to see me like that. Okay?" Posy sniffles again and reaches up to wipe at her cheeks. "Maybe when… when I get better."

And honestly, I don't know if this is a lie or not. I'd like to mesh with the Hawthorne family. I'd _like _to feel like I belonged like I did when I was with Taftan and Proja. I just don't know if I can. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do so.

It feels like a betrayal to Taftan. If I'm to accept any offer of sleeping conditions it should continue to be with the Mellark's. Right?

Posy and I walk back to where her family is staying and I help her settle for bed. Hazelle offers me a gentle smile but doesn't say much. She doesn't have to. Her expression conveys enough.

It says _I'm sorry_. It says _I hope you're okay_. After Posy rolls over from exhaustion and slips into sleep, Hazelle pulls me into her arms and hugs tightly.

"You're always welcome here," she whispers. The way she says it makes me want to cry. So motherly. It makes me miss my own mother. My own family. I squeeze her tighter and close my eyes. Maybe, _just maybe_ if I try hard enough, she could be my mom. But when she pulls away and I open my eyes, she's still Hazelle. "Gale," Hazelle suddenly says. "Is something wrong?"

I jump at his name and spin around, turning to face the hunter behind me. His eyebrows are creased. He glances at his mother briefly before turning to me. "I need to talk to you," he says quickly. For a moment I feel a string snapping within me. What does he want to say? Something about our strange sleeping arrangement? Maybe that it didn't mean anything? I already know that, though. I just thought that… I thought that things might have been different. That things were changing between us, somehow. He tips his head. "Can we?"

"Oh. Now?" Again he nods. "Yes, sure."

I look toward Hazelle who only shrugs. The woman nibbles on her bottom and lowers herself to the ground next to her sleeping children. Gale tightens his grip on the backpack slung over his shoulders and leads the way. I feel like I'm about to be broken up with which is strange because I've never had a boyfriend in the first place so I don't know what it feels like at all and also Gale and I aren't dating.

After walking a few minutes away from the camp in silence he spins back to face me. I don't like being so far away from camp this late. It's dark. And it's not as though I don't trust Gale because I do but the entire prospect of the situation is making me antsy.

"They didn't want to tell you but I think you have a right to know," he says quickly. He glances over my shoulder toward the flames that indicate a campfire. "Proja didn't think it was smart."

"What are you…?"

"They're at the fence," Gale whispers. His voice takes on a sullen tone. They're at the fence. "We've been watching the fence for days, taking down as many as we can. More people on watch. More people staying behind when we go into the District so they can protect camp just in case." Gale shakes his head and looks up toward the sky that is quickly getting darker. "There're too many. They'll knock it down soon enough. They just keep _coming_."

I frown and tug on the hem of my shirt. "Okay."

Proja was right. I didn't need to know this. But so was Gale. I squeeze my eyes shut and rock on my heels, glancing away from the boy in front of me.

"That's why we've been going into the District a lot more," Gale continues. His eyes drop back down to me. I can feel them. I don't return the stare. "Supplies. Back packs. Walking shoes." He glances down at my feet. "I don't quite understand how you've gotten along wearing _sandals_ all this time."

I shift on my feet and peel my eyes open. "You got me shoes?"

"Boots," he nods. "From the shoe shop. Everyone's getting them if we can find enough." This can only mean one thing. "We're leaving."

All at once it feels like one weight is being lifted from my shoulder, only to have another suffocate me instantly. We're leaving. We're getting away from this overrun District of unpleasant memories. We're going to keep ourselves safe. But at the same time, this is home. At least it was. I was born and raised here. My family was here. My _life_.

"Where are we going?" I squeak.

Gale sighs and lifts his shoulders before shaking his head. "I wanted to go east," he tells me. "To the ocean. Start over entirely." The idea doesn't sound too bad. It's uncharted over there but I think that there're enough of us to make a life. It won't be easy but it is plausible. "Haymitch wants us to go to the Capitol," Gale grumbles.

"That'll take months," I blurt.

"I know," he nods. "But if everyone else really is falling to shambles he thinks… Haymitch thinks there'll be some sort of safe house for people."

"That doesn't make any _sense_," I snap. "Running right into the arms of the people who _caused_ this?" Not only that but having to maneuver around other overrun Districts? That's insane! That'll get us killed!

"Hey," Gale growls, taking a step closer to me. "Don't get mad at _me_ it wasn't my idea." His eyes lock with mine and then trail down my body. "We're staying south until we get there," Gale tells me softly. It's as though we're sharing secrets. "Won't get as cold during the winter. No snow, which is good for us. We can manage."

And I suppose we can. With Gale and Katniss able to hunt wherever we go, we should be able to make it through the uncharted areas fast enough as long as we can avoid other Districts. I just don't _want_ to. Why do we always have to go searching for answers? Why can't we just ignore the whole mess and call it a day?

"You're upset," Gale notes. "Is it because we're leaving? You want to stay?"

"No I'm just tired," I admit.

His lips quirk. Never a smile. "Guess we'll have to go to bed early, then." His words startle me so much I nearly gasp. "That reminds me." Gale swings his backpack around and lowers it to the ground. He kneels down and unzips the top digging around in it for a few moments. "We had a stop at the jewelry store," Gale says. "I found this."

His hands extend and in them… "A music box?"

I don't want a gift from Gale.

"I figured that we'd be walking for a long time," he says, shifting awkwardly and trying to avoid my gaze. I've yet to take it into my own hands. "And I thought you might miss the piano. I mean it's not a piano but it kind of sounds like one."

Taftan used to give me gifts.

"Will you take it before I feel like an ass?" he nearly snaps. I retrieve the gift from him so quickly I almost drop it. A gift. I don't want a gift. I don't deserve a gift. Not from Gale, not from _anyone_. "Open it," he urges.

It's thoughtful. It is. But it's a gift. A treasure. A rarity in this world. I don't need it. I don't _want_ it. Hesitantly I look up at him. Gale has the same eyes as Posy. Wide and gray. Full of optimism. Maybe he doesn't smile, but I can see it in his eyes. The expectation. I want to tell him I don't deserve this. I want to tell him I don't understand.

My fingers twitch and I pop the lid open. I stare down at the box in my hands and blink, confused, at what stares back. There's a small mirror inside. I can see me. Not the hazy reflection of myself on the lake, but actually me. Just faintly. It's dark. But the golden glow of my hair, the shine of my eyes.

And then the music starts to play. I watch the small cylinder below the mirror spinning, obviously on some sort of hook up with the lid that causes it to move. And the song that lights up the small area around us…

"It doesn't sound anything like the piano," I sniffle. Gale shifts uneasily. But then I laugh, reaching forward and wiping at my eyes. The song is so beautiful. So eerily beautiful that it fills my chest with some sort of comfort. "I love it."

My eyes climb back up to Gale's and this time I really, honesty, think I see him smile. My legs feel like jelly but I close the distance between us, throwing my arms around his torso and squeezing as tight as I possibly can. This must not be what he's expecting because it takes him a moment to react, his arms slowly snaking around me as well and holding me closely.

I try to stop the tears from falling but they do anyway, and in seconds I can feel the wetness of Gale's shirt from my crying. He doesn't try to stop me. Doesn't say anything. Just hugs my body against his and lets me cry.

"I don't understand," I finally force out. My voice cracks and his hold tightens. "You hate me. Y-you always _have_. A-and now you're being nice and g-giving me gifts and s-sleeping next to me a-and—"

"The world's falling apart, Undersee," he murmurs. "I've seen our home in ruins. Seen… seen people I care about torn apart." Gale pulls away just slightly. Enough so he can grab my chin, so he can force me to look up at him. "I don't have it in me anymore."

"You just like fixing broken things," I tell him with a sniffle.

"Maybe." His hold on me releases. Gale glances down at the music box in my hands before reaching down and lifting his backpack to his shoulders and steering me back to camp. "Maybe not."

* * *

We fall asleep a few feet away from each other. I watch his chest rise and fall. I watch him shift every few seconds. And then, he turns to watch me. His stare is unrelenting, but not in the intimidating way. Just in the sense in which we have nothing to do. Nowhere to go. It's like he and I are the only ones here.

I wonder if he understands what he's doing. What he's getting himself into with me. When I said that I'm a broken thing I _meant _it. I wonder if he knows that piecing me back together is not something he wants to do. That I will become clingy and dependent. That I'll _need _him if he continues to do this.

Somehow I fall asleep. I don't dream.

I do, however, wake up in the middle of the night. Not screaming or sweating or crying. But because the person I'm lying against shifts slightly, causing my head to fall onto his chest.

My first reaction is to shove him away. Roll aside. Cling to my own sleeping gear and try to drift off again. But I don't.

I carefully readjust myself in Gale's arms, snuggling closer just because I can. I want to be held. I want to know what it's like, even if it's just pretend, to be loved. To be cared for. To be held because someone _wants_ to hold me. I nuzzle into his side and his arm around my waist tightens.

Gale turns his head so his face is in my hair and lets out a deep sigh, pulling me closer once again. Our bodies mold together. My fingers tug at his shirt. His hand around my waist has nudged my shirt up. Not purposefully, but enough so that his skin is against mine. It sends electricity through my body.

For a moment, I feel guilty that I'm enjoying this so much. I should seclude myself. Maybe try to run away again. But then Gale murmurs my name in his sleep, and I drift off again, all of my negative thoughts evaporating just like that.

* * *

_A/N: Because this is in Madge's POV we don't really get to see what Gale's thinking, so I'll try to explain it for you. He watched his entire District basically explode. Some of his friends, some people he really cared about, gone just like that. He regrets half the things he never said and he never wants to do that again. With Madge he can start over, make things right. Not only that but he's hurting too. Like Madge said last chapter that two people can help each other put themselves together. That, and she's great with little Posy, definitely tugging on his heartstrings... thoughts?_


	11. Progress

Waking up wrapped around a boy is not something my mother had ever prepared me for. Hearing his heartbeat soothingly in his chest. Having his warmth cradling me so tightly I don't even need a blanket. The feeling of our ankles wrapped together as though someone has tied up a present with string. His fingers curled lightly through my hair. His breath soft against my collarbone.

I force myself to remember that this is Gale Hawthorne, not some character out of a book. He's actually here. I want to roll away, but I can't. This is so… peaceful. Calming.

"No nightmares," Gale murmurs, shifting in his spot. The sound of his voice startles me. I thought he was sleeping. I blink a few times, craning my neck to get a good view of his face. "Right?"

He blinks a few times as well, his gray eyes adjusting to the light before focusing on me. I'm left speechless. Why is he still here? Why hasn't he let go yet?

"Right," I finally answer. He stretches his hand and uncurls his fingers from my hair, reaching up and brushing my bangs away. "You're still here," I blurt.

Gale lifts an eyebrow. "So?"

"I—" I what? I don't know what to say.

We stay frozen like that for a few minutes. Our ankles still entwined, sharing the same breath. Gale must finally come to his senses because he moves in his spot. His grip had been the only thing keeping me so close, and with it gone I roll back onto my own blankets. I snatch back my ankle as though I've been burned and prop myself up on my elbows before sitting up completely.

Gale leans off of his blankets and pulls on his shoes, looking up toward the sky before shoving himself on his hands and marching away.

_What? _

I groan and drop my head into my hands, rubbing at my eyes. I don't get it and I'm not even sure I _want_ to understand at this point. I sit like this for a long time, wondering what the hell is going on inside Gale Hawthorne's head and debating if I should get up to get breakfast or not. When I finally pull my face from my hands I see Posy marching over, an extra apple in her hand, and plopping down next to me.

"Good morning!" she cheers brightly

I force a smile, "Morning, Posy." She thrusts an apple in my direction and takes a bite of her own, frowning at the taste. "Sick of apples?"

"Yes," she frowns. "I want blueberry bread like Momma used to make." I swing my arm around her shoulder and give her a gentle squeeze. I'm not sure if we're ever going to have blueberry bread again. That sits hollow in my chest as I munch on my apple. As we eat she turns to me, "I didn't hear you yelling last night!"

"I didn't have a bad dream last night," I tell her.

Posy grins, "Is it because Gale is there? He always fights away the monsters in the woods when he stays with me. Maybe he does the same for you!" I choke on a bit of my apple and cough to make it not so obvious. Posy waits, grinning, for my answer. I can only lift my shoulders as I continue to dislodge the apple from my throat. Posy giggles a bit. "Are you and Gale going to get married?" she asks.

By now I've cleared my throat of apple and I thank God that I haven't taken another bite.

"No, Posy," I blurt.

"But you're sleeping like a mommy and a daddy do. Are you going to have a baby?"

"_No_," I say again. I desperately wish I had younger siblings so I knew how to explain this better. "Gale is um," my friend? Is he even my friend? "He's helping me get over my nightmares."

"So you snuggle?"

"Posy, we don't—" I sigh, not knowing how to answer her at all. Eventually I figure out how to respond. "Why don't you ask him, hm?"

"I did," she responds, crossing her teeny arms over her chest. "He said," Posy changes her voice, low and deep, "_mind your own business Pose_." She throws her hands up and I bite back my smile. Spot on impersonation if I do say so myself. "What a brat!"

"He is a brat," I nod. A very confusing mysterious _brat_ that doesn't make any sense to me.

Mine and Gale's routine carries on for the next few days in silence. We don't talk during the day, but every night he holds me. When I wake screaming, he calms me. When I don't, he lets me sleep.

Eventually I find myself looking for him during the day, desperate to get just a simple glance of him. Sometimes his eyes meet mine, other times I watch him for a few moments before looking away. Gale finally gives me boots, strong hiking ones that are meant for rough terrain. He throws my sandals away and with it goes the last of my old life. I'm no longer the mayor's daughter. I'm a survivor, just like everyone else. When he goes on runs, I worry. When he gets back, I'm relieved.

And every morning I wake up in his arms, and every morning he walks away without a goodbye, only to return at night.

* * *

"Maybe he likes you," Delly offers. She's been in a much more upbeat mood after spending so much time with Proja, and I can't say I blame her. The two of them laugh at things that aren't funny and I really do believe that they're helping each other get over their losses. She's smiling again, that same Cartwright smile she's always had. "You're a catch, Madge."

"It's the end of the world, Del," I frown, "I don't need motivational dating advice." Delly giggles and nudges me with her arm. "Gale doesn't like me he's not _allowed_ to like me."

"Well maybe he's just trying to cope with his losses then," she shrugs. "Oh," Delly catches herself and her cheeks run pink. "That made me sound as though I think he's using you! And I don't think that at all, Madge." I smile a bit to show her I hadn't _assumed_ that's what she was saying, and she eases. "I think that maybe, in times like this, people just need other people to cling onto."

I drop my gaze down to the river that flows in front of us. Was Taftan clinging onto me as well? His face haunts my thoughts. His bright blue eyes and sunshine golden hair. The one dimple he always had on his left cheek when he smiled wide enough, but never on his right. I get a bitter taste in my mouth thinking about him. How different would things be right now? Would he have started to do what Gale has done, pulling me into his arms at night to quiet the screaming in my head? Would he still bring me gifts? Tell me stories?

"Madge," Delly waves her hand in front of my face. "Are you okay?"

It takes me a minute to blink away my tears but eventually I nod. "I just miss him," I whisper.

"Taftan?" she asks. I nod. "Hey, me too." Her hand reaches out and grabs mine.

And I feel guilty for all the time I've spent with Gale after his death, but I don't think I can tell Delly this. Taftan didn't like Gale, at least I don't think. Not very much if at all. And I'm so willingly getting over his death, accepting Gale's embrace at night even though it confuses me.

"I just wanted to say _goodbye_," I whimper. Delly pulls me into her arms and squeezes tightly, allowing me to cry. "I'm _so_ _sorry_, Delly."

"Hey, don't be sorry about anything," she soothes me. "It's okay to miss him. I miss Loaf every day, but I know he wouldn't want me upset." This only makes me feel worse, because when Loaf died she would shove people away and I let her stand on her own. Delly pulls away and lifts my chin so I look into her eyes. "It's okay to be happy with Gale."

I jerk out of her arms so quickly she gasps, shocked at my reaction. I pace away from her and wipe my own tears, sniffling until I can breathe normally again. It's not okay to be happy with Gale because I'm not with Gale and I'm not happy.

"Madge," Delly says quietly. She rests her hand on my shoulder. "Maybe Gale just sees something in you that he needs."

"He doesn't need me," I bite out.

"You don't know that," she responds. "He lost his two best friends during the outbreak, Proja told me. Gale put them down himself." I glance over my shoulder, lifting an eyebrow in confusion, only to watch her nod. "Maybe he doesn't want to lose you too."

* * *

"_Undersee_," Gale's gruff voice scares me suddenly. I spin around quickly, ending up with my nose in his chest. He grunts and takes a step back, watching me with those hunter eyes of his. "What are you doing?"

I glance down at the items in my hands and frown. "I was going to do some laundry," I answer politely, though I'm not sure why. If he gets to return to being hostile after a certain hour then I suppose I should do so as well.

"You do that every day," he murmurs. "Want to come with me?"

His offer startles me. "Where?"

"Snare run," Gale answers. "Put those boots into some good use," he adds, gesturing at my feet. I'm still not used to the feel of them, and I think they're giving me blisters. "Break 'em in."

I continue to stare at him. "What?"

Gale physically resists rolling his eyes. I can tell. He readjusts how he's standing and looks down his nose at me. His gaze always makes me feel small. "I need to go on a snare run and I figured that you would like to get out of laundry for once. Get a change of scenery."

"I'm not quiet," I tell him. Gale narrows his eyes questioningly. "To hunt, people have to be quiet. Delly tells me I walk around like an elephant."

He smirks. At least I think he smirks. "I'm not hunting, just collecting what the snares have caught." And yet still, I hesitate. The clothes in my arms aren't _that_ dirty, they can probably be worn again once or twice before washing them. Especially if we're trying to save soap. "You're allowed to say no," he grunts. "I just thought I'd offer."

"Yes," I nod. "I'll come." Maybe he expected me to say no because Gale's eyebrows lift to his forehead. "Just give me a minute to put this all away." He nods, allowing me to run off and place everything back where it belongs. When I'm all ready he jerks his head and motions for me to follow him.

I almost expect everyone's eyes to follow us as we make our way from the camp, but when looking out on the crowd I realize that they're all preoccupied with their own lives. The few who do spot us don't make anything of it, just returning to their jobs in an instant. If we were still in District 12 everyone's eyes would've followed Gale and I until we were out of sight, but here it's like no one cares.

Maybe it's because they don't anymore.

And then I wonder why I _do_.

We walk in silence for a few minutes before he makes a cut down a path that's sort of hidden. I wouldn't have been able to catch it if it wasn't for Gale leading. "Do you make these runs every day?" I ask. Silence with Gale makes me uneasy. I prefer conversation, even if it is awkward and forced.

"Mostly," he nods. "Rory likes to come but he's helping Prim with organizing the medicine shack today."

Before we fall into the silence I offer another question. "Do you prefer doing the run on your own or with Rory?" Gale stops without an answer and stoops down, ruffling a bush until he finds one of his traps. Two rabbits. I frown as he pulls them into his hands, and then wince as he snaps their necks. "Why do you _do_ that?"

"Painless kill," Gale murmurs. "You want to eat something other than apples, don't you?"

I snort instantly and Gale glances at me over his shoulder, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm so sick of apples," I say sheepishly.

"Ah, that's right, you probably miss your fancy French toast and bacon." Gale tosses his kills into the bag slung around his back and starts walking again. But I don't follow. I watch him walk. He must realize my elephant footsteps aren't behind him and he spins around, watching me also. "_What_?" he asks.

"That was rude," I answer simply. Taftan never would've said anything like that to me. "Apologize."

"I wasn't trying to be rude, Undersee, I was simply stating you're probably going mad not having a gourmet meal every day." I cross my arms tightly over my chest and watch his mouth curve upwards. "Okay, _that_ was rude. I'm sorry." Still, I stay where I am. "I formally withdraw my earlier statement, whether it be true or not, and offer you my most sincere apologies." Gale cocks an eyebrow. "Better?"

"Better," I nod. The curve of his mouth returns, but I'm too pessimistic to call it a smile. "You know," I say as I catch up to him, "I never asked for those things. The fancy meals or… or the _pretty dresses_." He winces at my words. Must remember where they're from. "I knew what our District was like, how corrupt and hopeless it was. I'm 17, Gale, it's not like I could've done anything about it."

Gale grunts. "I know."

"Then why were you always so terrible to me about it?" I ask. "You made me feel—"

I stop talking as he spins around, halting in his spot again. "Feel what?" he demands. His eyes bore into mine, his stance is intimidating.

"You made me feel awful," I whisper. It's so hard to hold his gaze but if I don't then he wins. And I can't let him win. "You made me feel like a spoiled brat but I never wanted anything that I had." Gale's mouth parts slightly. Not to the point where he's going to say something, but more out of being… intrigued. "My family was hardly around for me. They were loving, yes, but I often wished I could've just been… normal."

And it's true. All I wanted was to fit in. All I wanted was more than three friends. For my dad to be home for dinner at night, for my mother to play the piano with me again.

"I want to show you something," Gale finally says. He spins on his heel and jerks his head. "Follow me."

Gale's walking so quickly, taking such long strides, that I nearly have to run to keep up with him. He ducks under branches because he's so freaking tall and edges through bushes. "Gale," I protest. "Slow _down_! Where are you _going_? What about the snares? What about—"

I pause when we reach a clearing. Below us sits a valley, stretched out as far as the eye can see until it dissolves into another forest. He stands still, watching me I think, and waits for me to react.

But I don't know what to say.

I take a few steps forward and scan the area below us. It's beautiful. Breathtaking. Too stunning for words. Nothing I've ever seen before in my life. Inside me there's a bit of relief. There are still beautiful places left. Maybe District 12 is gone but there's an entire world out there untainted by the Capitol. Clean. A fresh start.

"I come here to think," Gale finally says, walking over to me. He reaches out and offers me something, and out of reflex I accept what it is. I nearly drop the strawberry when he places it in my hand. "It's not too far from camp, or the District."

Suddenly I don't know if I want to be staring at the strawberry he's just handed me, the view in front of me, or _him_.

"It's lovely," I conjure. My eyes drop to the fruit I hold. When I look back up he gestures behind us to a small bush. Barely any berries left. "Thank you," I breathe.

"I know they're your favorite," is all he says. Gale drops himself down to the ground, slinging his backpack off and tossing it to the side. After a bit of hesitation I take the spot beside him. "It's safe to eat," Gale tells me, his face morphing amusedly. "Go on." And again I find myself hesitating. He brings up his hand again, having held one for himself as well, and taking a bite into the strawberry as if to prove it to me.

And finally, when I take the bite, it's as though everything is okay. The sweet taste of my favorite fruit fills my mouth and I moan without meaning to, sighing as the juice flows over my tongue and letting my eyes drift shut. Gale reaches over, wiping a bit of juice from my chin. My eyes fly open immediately but he doesn't retract his hand, just finishes wiping my face gently.

Our eyes lock, and the question spills from me at once.

"Do you like me?"

Gale's eyes widen.

"Because Taftan liked me and he never told me and now he's dead."

Gale's eyes narrow.

"I don't know what it would've changed if I knew, really. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. And now I feel guilty because I like you, which is stupid—"

"It's not stupid," Gale cuts me off. I try my hardest to unravel Gale Hawthorne. The moonlike stare he holds, the slight parting of his mouth. My cheeks run red as I realize what I've said. What I've admitted. I drop my gaze, but his hand is on my cheek, pulling me back up to look at him even though I can't hold his gaze. "It's not stupid," he repeats gently.

"Every time I get attached to someone I lose them," I whisper. My parents. Taftan. I'm even drifting from Katniss and Peeta. And now I'm attached to Gale. My eyes seek him out almost always without even meaning to. I find myself longing for night in which he'll wrap me in his arms again, whether it means something to him or not. It makes me feel safe. Protected. "I can't lose you too."

"I'm not going anywhere," Gale murmurs.

"Neither were they." Eventually my eyes climb up to his again. "You can't promise me that you won't, too."

"Yes I can," he grunts. "I won't leave you, Madge."

My stomach twists at the use of my name. "Why not?" His thumb carefully strokes my cheek and I feel my eyes filling with tears. "What changed?" Gale lifts his shoulders slightly, but that isn't enough for me. "I need to know what changed." Why I'm no longer the mayor's daughter to him, why he thinks it alright to do what he's done with me. Finally his hand drops. "Please."

"I watched my best friends fall," Gale croaks. The vulnerability to his voice gives me goosebumps. The look on his face brings me to tears. "Thom, he—he was changing into one of them. We were trying to get to his family and we didn't… we didn't make it." I want to comfort him but I don't know how. Slowly I lift one of my hands to his. "And then Thom didn't make it, Bristel either, and it was just me, running through the District alone," he murmurs, dropping his gaze to our hands. "And then you were there."

"Gale—"

"And you made Posy laugh when I couldn't, and you didn't let anyone look at you funny because of the rumors. Not even me." His eyes are still on our hands. He slowly laces his fingers with mine. "If they hurt you never let it show, you just kept going."

"Everyone did that," I whisper. We all powered through. "Not just me."

"You were the first one who lost _everyone_," Gale tells me. He finally looks back toward me, his pupils dilated. "And you didn't stop. Not even for a second."

"I tried to," I remind him. "I tried to stop." He just wouldn't let me.

Gale shakes his head and lets his free hand lift up to my cheek again. "We all get lost sometimes."

"I'm not as strong as you think I am," I tell him, blinking back tears. "I don't sleep, I—"

"Don't," Gale growls. He drops his forehead to mine, narrowing his eyes. "Don't you do that." Gale searches my face for a very long time. I wonder what he's looking for. I wonder if he finds it, because he whispers, "I'm going to kiss you now." My throat is entirely too dry to form a response, so when he leans down I can only tilt out of the way. "Madge," he breathes.

"I d-don't—"

"Don't what?" he asks. "Don't want me to kiss you?"

"No, I do," I tell him. My eyes squeeze shut and reach forward, grabbing at his shirt and holding it tightly. He's too close. He's too _far_. "I just don't—"

I don't _deserve_ it. I don't deserve this. Gale kissing me? Why? Why should I get to kiss anyone ever again? Why didn't I just disappear into the District when I had the chance?

Gale only continues to inch closer, his lips stretching toward mine. And maybe just this once it will be okay. Maybe Posy's right, I _can_ be happy. I don't have to keep blaming myself. He dips down, our breath mingling, and tips my chin up.

I let my eyes drift shut. I almost feel his lips on mine.

But he never kisses me. Because mere moments before he does, we hear screams from back at camp.

* * *

_A/N: Whoops. Characterization okay? Thoughts or predictions? Let me know!_


	12. Attackers

The screaming only increases the closer we get to camp. Gale sprints ahead of me and I have to duck more than once to make sure the branches he's pushed out of the way don't fly back to hit me in the face. Right as we reach the edge he halts in his tracks and I nearly run into him. He spins around quickly, thrusting something into my hands.

"Stay here," he orders. His eyes are sharp and focused, that of a hunter. I glance down at what he's given me and nearly drop it. I don't need a knife. I don't. Not his. _No_. "I'll see what's going on and come back."

"I'm not staying here," I nearly hiss. Last time he made me stay where I was I lost Taftan. I _refuse_ to lose him too! "I'm coming with you." He opens his mouth to protest but is cut short when someone cries out in pain. "I'm coming no matter _what_ you say, Gale!"

"Then keep hold that knife," he grits, "and pray you don't have to use it. Stay behind me at all times."

Before I can even nod he's darting into the District. I stumble at first, confused at how fast he's already moving, and then quickly follow behind.

It doesn't take me more than a minute to figure out what's wrong. To smell them. And when I spot the first I nearly pause to throw up, watching as it tears into a woman from the camp. I can't tear my eyes and my body protests the sight, my stomach clenching again and again. She's still alive, _screaming _for help, but there's nothing any of us can do. I swallow back the bile in my throat and demand myself to pace after Gale, watching as he spins in all directions with his eyes scanning the area.

"Get your stuff," he calls over his shoulder. "Do it quick!"

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I sprint past him over to where my sleeping gear has been and let out a deep breath. I'm in the clear for now, there's no one close. I drop to the ground and shovel all my things into the backpack I keep all my stuff in. I make sure to be extra careful with the music box, and then after that I heap all my clothes in. I don't have much to my name.

It takes me a minute to roll up the blankets and pillows considering Gale's stuff is with mine as well and I don't want to forget a single thing but I take my time doing it. If I want to go fast I have to go slow so I don't mess up.

The cries radiating around me are distracting and I have to force myself to breath, _in and out in and out. Peace, they'll be at peace Right? _I demand myself to swallow and tune out the noise that suffocates me, finishing wrapping up my things as quickly as I can.

"_Madge!_"

I turn at the last minute to the sound of someone screaming my name at the top of their lungs only to find one of _them_. A scream coils up my throat as I fumble for the knife Gale gave me but I can't find it. I can't find it!

Panic. Panic is coursing through me at top speed. Green eyes. Brown hair. Rotted skin. Pale. A town kid. Disfigured. Rotting off.

"_Madge!_" someone screams again.

Once a person, now a monster. Once a son, now a killer. Hungry. Always hungry. Always reaching. Beckoning me to join him. Hazy eyes like my mother's. Low and ghastly groans. Monster. Killer. Hungry. _Join him_.

Before I can react again an arrow pierces the head of the beast. The boy, the _monster_ falls on top of me, black goop leaking from his wound and dripping down my shirt. I cough once, twice, shove the corpse off of me and roll onto my hands and knees, dry heaving until I can't breathe.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

When I come back to my senses, pushing myself farther away from the attacker, I snatch up my backpack as quickly as I can. When I glance up I see Katniss firing off arrows like the roman war goddess she is, Peeta standing behind her to make sure nothing gets her from behind. I'll have to thank her later.

Instantly I'm on my feet following the few people fleeing from camp. My eyes scan for Gale or Proja or _anyone_, really. I start losing hope when I find where we're all gathering and the air flees my system at a rate so incredible I nearly stumble. I drop my things down by a tree and trust no one will take them and then I sprint back to camp.

Sweat is beading on my forehead and I can feel my calves starting to ache and a soreness in my throat but I have to make sure everyone is out.

"Arrows!" I hear Katniss scream, only to watch Peeta thrusting an entire quiver into her hands.

She doesn't hesitate to reload and fire off another shot. My feet carry me into the boundaries of camp but I know Katniss is smart and won't hit me. My eyes continue to scan the area but I'm numb to the horrid sighs. Skin in piles by itself. Blood staining the green grass. People twitching as they are torn into.

Suddenly a little voice catches my attention. I throw a glance over my shoulder and push through the fleeing crowds, avoiding those who have fallen as well as those who lunge in my direction.

"Help me!" he screams. I peel my eyes open trying to find him. "Help!"

As I follow the sound of his voice I'm abruptly stopped. Someone throws their hand on my shoulder pulling me to a halt. When I spin around, terrified at what I'll find, Gale thrusts something into my hands. Scratch that, some_one_.

Posy weeps, clinging to me instantly and burying her head into my neck.

"Go," Gale yells, his eyes madly dark and focused. "Take her out! I have to find Vick!"

Gale goes to shove me away but I dig my heels into the ground. "Over there," I nearly shout. "I heard him! It sounded like—"

He doesn't even wait for me to finish, shoving me again toward where the crowd is rushing and sprinting farther into camp. Posy's sob pulls me back to reality and I tighten my grip around her. She hides herself into my side and mutters something I can't hear. All I can do as I weave through the people is pray that Hazelle and Rory are safe as well, and that Gale gets to Vick in time wherever he is.

When we reach the opening I go to lower Posy but she only clings tighter to me. I stroke her hair and continue filtering through the people that pass and trying to find someone.

Too tall. Too skinny. Too pale. Where's Hazelle?

"Madge," a voice breathes out. I spin around and find myself face to face with her and relief instantly floods my face. Hazelle stands, her gray eyes filled with worry, and reaches out for Posy. I pry the little girl from my arms and hand her over to her mother, happiness filling me up as she sighs happily. "Oh, Posy," Hazelle whispers. Posy sniffles and throws her tiny arms around Hazelle's neck, squeezing tightly. "My baby girl, you're safe. You're safe now."

Her eyes lift up to me in a question. _Where are they? _

"Gale went after Vick," I say softly.

Posy sniffles again. "Rory's here with Prim," Hazelle responds. "They're patching people up. He's helping."

I try to smile, I do, but my entire body is still numb. The sensation is wearing off and the fear is overwhelming. I find my body shaking and twitching. I move away from Hazelle and Posy and march over to where I've dropped my things just so I have something to do. I keep my eyes on the ground in terror that I won't find the people I want to see. The people I _need_ to see.

I can't lose anyone else.

I can't.

I'm not strong enough yet. I'm not sure I ever will be.

As I blink back tears I stumble into someone. "Sorry," I squeak. Before I can even pull my eyes up all the way I'm being pulled into someone's arms. I don't need to see his face to know who he is. Warm. Smelling like the bakery he used to spend so much time in. "_Proja_," I croak.

"Madge," he says back. His arms tighten around my back. "When you weren't there—I knew you had left but I—I kept looking—never stopped, I just—" he lets out a choked breath and drops his forehead to my shoulder. "I thought I lost you too." Proja pulls away slightly and grips my face in his hands, pulling me up to look at him. His eyes are wide and worried. "You're okay."

"I'm okay," I nod weakly. His thumb drops under my eyes and wipes at my tears. "Delly?"

"Okay," he answers. "Gale?"

His hands slide from my face as I shrug. I don't know. I don't know if I want to know. Terror shoots through my veins like ice as I glance over Proja's shoulder back to where Hazelle was, but it fades. I let out a watery laugh and blink back more tears.

Gale stands with Vick in his arms, tightly hugging his mother and Posy.

"Okay," I answer. Proja, though always on the edge with Gale, smiles. He pulls me into his arms quickly again before letting me go and going off to comfort Delly.

I watch the Hawthorne's teary eyed reunion for a moment and remind myself to breath. They're safe. They're all safe.

I don't allow the fear to fade entirely until Katniss and Peeta join us, looking exhausted and beat but still warm and victorious. Everyone turns to the pair of them expectantly, even Haymitch in the crowd, and waits for them to speak.

"Here's what we know," Peeta calls out. A hush falls over everyone as we listen. "The fence has been breached. The freaks that swarmed our camp were just the first wave. More will be coming and we can't stop them." Someone chokes back a sob. I shift on my feet. "It's not safe anymore. We have to leave."

"Our best option now," Katniss continues, her voice filled with an overwhelming power, "is to head towards the Capitol. Look for answers, for a safer place."

"We'll walk as far as we can tonight to distance ourselves," Peeta adds. He glances over at Katniss. "We'll have a few people run into camp and scavenge what they can but things aren't looking so great. We don't want anyone there by themselves, or for a long amount of time so they can catch our scent. We don't want anyone at risk anymore. Not ever again."

"It's going to be tough," Katniss enhances. "There's no doubt about that. But we have to try. We can't stay. We can't make you come, either, but a group is our best shot. Everyone… everyone who's left is going to have to work together to make it through these next couple of weeks. Maybe months." She turns to Haymitch. "Did you count?"

Everyone snaps their head to face the aged Victor. His face is sullen. "Sixty. Maybe seventy."

"Seventy what?" someone asks.

"People," Haymitch answers. "That's all we have left."

* * *

Maybe seventy. Maybe. No more than that.

How many did we used to have? A hundred, at least. One twenty at most. I'm sure of it.

Taftan, before he was taken, told me that there were other camps outside the District as well. It wasn't just us. They were small. Families. Little groups. That was reassuring then, but now that the fence is down, what? He wanted us to group up with them. Stronger in numbers. Yet also, more susceptible.

Our leaders found it best that we all stay where we were. Moving people to us would've been difficult, as well as us to somewhere else.

But we're not all leaving. Many have chosen to stay. To locate groups along the District fence themselves and stay put. We won't help them find them, but they're free to go if they wish.

And then there aren't even maybe seventy. There are twenty six. Exactly twenty six of us.

Me. One.

The Hawthorne's. Six.

The Everdeen's. Nine.

The Mellark's. Eleven.

Delly. Twelve.

Haymitch. Thirteen.

Greasy Sae. Fourteen.

A brother and sister. Sixteen.

A family from town. Twenty.

A family from the Seam. Twenty three.

Two girls all alone. One boy. Twenty six.

It's just us.

* * *

"Madge," Posy's voice is soft and scratchy. I glance over at her, tearing my gaze from the campfire. She sits wearing one of Rory's t-shirts. It's big, long enough to be like an old nightgown for her. She must've just changed into it because everyone changed after the attacks and she wasn't wearing that then. It must be bed time. She tugs on her hair. "I'm tired."

"You should to sleep, honey," I say gently. We've been walking all day, lugging everything we've got on our backs and Posy likes to help, demanding to carry something along with the rest of us. Gale made sure it wasn't anything heavy. "Go lay with your mom."

"Will you come?" she asks. "Tonight will you stay with us?"

Posy finally looks up at me, her gray eyes bright and hopeful. And after all that's happened today I don't have it in me to say no. "Of course."

Her hand stretches out for mine, her tiny fingers fitting in my palm. She leads me over to where her family has roughly set up. By the time I get there Vick is asleep against Rory who's nodding off himself and Gale and his mother are talking in hushed voices. They pause when they see me arriving, or maybe it's because Posy's with me, and Hazelle offers me a light smile.

"Staying with us tonight?" she wonders.

Posy's head tips forward but I add, "If that's okay."

Mostly everyone else is already curled into a ball, spent from today's events. Haymitch is the only one by the fire and it's because he's on watch for the night.

"Of course that's okay," Hazelle nods. She gestures for Posy to go to her and the little girl releases my hand, rushing over to her mother. The two of them ease away from us and leave me and Gale alone.

We watch each other for a moment before he speaks. He looks drained, he looks older. His hair is messy, his face is empty. There's a mark on his chin that looks like it might scar. I'm not sure I want to know how he got it.

"Hey."

I can't help but smile. "Hey."

We haven't spoken all day other than casual conversation. Are your feet okay? Do you need some water? Should we turn here? It was only this morning in which he was leaning towards me with his lips puckered. He was going to kiss me. Just this morning. It feels like a _lifetime_ ago.

I step over and lower myself to the ground next to him. He throws out a pillow and scoots over on his blanket so I can lie down as well.

"Long day," he murmurs. I tip my head, staring up at the sky rather than him. His hand stretches out until finding mine. "You okay?"

"I guess." As okay as I can be. "It was… _brutal_ in there."

"That's why I asked." His grip on my hand tightens slightly and I can feel him watching me. Slowly I turn to face him. "What about with the traveling?" he questions. "Are you alright with this?"

"I don't really have a choice," I tell him. Gale frowns and I know that isn't the answer he wanted. With a deep sigh I lift my shoulders. "I don't know. I don't want to go to the Capitol but I didn't want to stay where we were."

"You could've switched to one of the other camps," he says.

"No I couldn't have." At that, his lips turn upward. For a moment I see a flash of the boy from this morning. His eyes wide, his voice soft. Vulnerable. Someone I never got the chance to know in the District. Someone who was always guarded and cruel to hide who he was underneath. "Gale," I start. He blinks once. "What you said this morning…"

His dark eyebrows furrow. "What about what _you_ said?" he says, shaking his head. I feel my face heat up. _Because I like you_. "Did you mean that? You were talking pretty fast, Undersee. I don't think you're too good under pressure."

"Yes," I blurt. Now his eyebrows lift. "I meant it." Gale rubs his thumb gently on my hand. "But I still don't think I… deserve… to…" I trail off tiredly, letting out a long breath. "Never mind. It's just that I—"

But before I can say anything else Gale leans down, carefully pressing his lips against mine. Instead of pulling back right away like I expect him to he only pulls me closer, bringing his freehand up to my cheek and tipping my chin up toward him. I must gasp or… or _something_, because Gale chuckles into my mouth before pressing closer. It takes me a moment to respond but then my lips are moving against his. He leans over me and we slink against the blanket. His kiss his fierce and the humor is gone, filled with hunger and desperation. When he pulls away it's only to catch his breath, and then his mouth is on mine again.

My hands, though hesitant at first, snake up into his hair and force him closer. Gale's groan is muffled but I feel it in my chest, sending butterflies and shooting stars _soaring_ through my body. Gale pulls away again panting, and feathers a kiss to my upper lip before stopping completely.

I lick my lips almost immediately, confused, yet filled with indescribable warmth. I almost have to restrain myself from lurching toward him again and forcing his mouth back to mine.

His lips quirk into a smile, his gray eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed. Gale keeps himself close to me, tugging until I snuggle up closer to him. I bury my face into his chest and his arm instantly drops around my waist.

We're quiet for a moment. I almost think he's fallen asleep already. "I'm tired," I finally murmur. I don't want to question what just happened. I don't want to talk about it. I'm not sure I'm entirely too ready for that and my body is still on fire from it. If I acknowledge what's happened it might not happen again. "Exhausted." And _God please_ let that happen again.

"Then sleep."

"I can't."

Gale pulls me closer. "You can. Just try." He traces patterns on my back. "Think about the ocean," he whispers.

Instantly I pull back, lifting an eyebrow. "The ocean?"

"Sure," he nods. "Somewhere far away from here." Hesitantly I lower myself back into his grip. "Whenever they would show District 4 on the television I couldn't get enough," Gale tells me. His voice is soothing and I allow myself to close my eyes. "The waves lapping at the shore, the sound of them crashing on the beach." He lets out a deep breath. "Peaceful. If I had grown up there rather than here I wouldn't have needed to hop the fence, I don't think. The whole shore must be like a haven."

"Maybe you'll see it one day," I whisper.

"Maybe."

He continues to talk about the ocean, the steady rolling of the water and the breeze. Explaining how it must smell, how the air must feel.

And as I slip into a dreamless oblivion at the comforting sound of his voice I hear a sudden panic at camp. Gale shifts, cocking his head, but I'm too exhausted to care. I fall asleep warm. I fall asleep… _safe_.

* * *

_A/N: Onto the Capitol we go. I'm using the "official map of Panem" for this story from that weird Hunger Games Facebook game, which is apparently the real map. Take a look if you want to figure out what District's they'll have to work through/around to get there! Might be meeting some interesting people. I dropped a hint about the "panic" Madge mentions at the end, I wonder if you caught it. Sorry for the lag. Hope the chapter was intense. OH ALSO: not everyone who they didn't count for died they just went different places. A lot of people died, yes, but not that many. _


	13. Prepping

When I wake up I immediately know something is wrong. Everyone is tense. Even Gale, who is holding me tightly when I stir, is on edge. I pull up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and glancing over at him. He brushes my bangs from my forehead and offers a gentle smile.

"You twitched a few times last night," he murmurs, "but no screaming or anything."

"Must've been because I was exhausted," I yawn. I don't think it will be long before I'm up in the middle of the night again, if we're being honest. I'll try for as long as I can but I won't last. I just know it. The feeling is hollow in my stomach. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." He cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I don't know." I rub at my eyes again and shift away from him. "I woke up last night and you were gone." Thought I rolled off of his chest or something but it turned out he just wasn't there. "Maybe I was dreaming. I don't know."

"Just had to see something," Gale tells me. He reaches for my hair again but I move backwards. "Nothing's wrong, Madge. Come on, let's have breakfast."

Before I can question him again he shoves himself to his feet, and then extends his hand to me. Hesitantly I accept it, not wanting to press him on topics he clearly doesn't want to talk about. I know if it's important they'll tell me soon enough. There are only so many of us left and we're all important at this point. There are no more secrets. He leads me over to where Posy and Vick sit eating and I lower myself to the log next to my favorite little girl. She grins up at me and extends her hands.

"Look, Madge," Posy giggles, "blueberries!"

She deposits a few into my hands and licks her lips in excitement before throwing a few into her mouth. Instantly I'm overwhelmed with hunger, tossing the small fruits she dropped into my hands into my own mouth and sighing in ecstasy as the taste swirls over my tongue.

Gale grins, taking the spot next to me. "There's a bush nearby," he says. "Posy helped pick. Right?"

"I'm a helper," Posy nods triumphantly.

"Yes you are," I agree, reaching over to ruffle her hair. Posy giggles and sticks out her tongue at me. "Are there anymore?" Posy nods again, reaching down into a small container and pulling out a pile of them, thrusting the treats into my hand. My jaw drops down, pure disbelief at the tiny berries. Gale smirks, reaching over to snatch one from my hands.

I lick my lips in excitement before carefully extracting one, lowering it into my mouth easily and sighing again at the taste. Oh, sweet blueberries. I never even thought I'd _see_ a blueberry, let alone eat one. Gale takes a few more from my hand to munch on as I eat but I don't mind. We're all hungry, and the small smile he wears as he eats is enough payment for me.

"So when do we leave?" I ask as we eat. Gale jerks his head toward me, his eyebrows narrowing. "What?"

"Why so eager?" he mutters. "You were exhausted last night from all the walking I figured you'd want a day to rest." My shoulders lift slightly. I'm ready to go. Ready to get out of this place. The farther we are from District 12 the safer I'll feel. "Tomorrow, probably," he finally answers. "They're plotting out a path to take."

I lift an eyebrow and pop the rest of the blueberries in my hand into my mouth. "We have a map?"

Gale's shoulders lift slightly. "Your dad's office had loads of neat things."

* * *

"If we go this way," Haymitch says, tracing his finger along a crease of the gigantic map before him, "then we can bypass 11. Which is smart, considering they're the closest District and have too many people for us to handle. Can you even imagine a zombie outbreak in that place? Utter chaos."

"Zombie," Proja mutters under his breath. "We told you not to call them that."

"I'm sorry _dough boy_," Haymitch turns to the blonde, "did you say something? Or would you rather decide where the hell we go and have the entire survival of our group left in your hands?" Proja clamps his mouth shut and glances up at me through his bangs, smirking as Haymitch returns to work. "_Anyway_, as I was _saying_—"

"If we go up we can hit District 9," Katniss interjects. Haymitch shoots her a look that could kill. "Those papers said that 9 and 7 weren't afflicted."

"It's a longshot, Sweetheart," Haymitch murmurs. "Will you let me talk?"

Katniss rolls her eyes and glances back down at the map. She looks tired. Utterly tired and deflated. She squints down at the map as though it's hard to read and rubs at her eyes as though she hasn't gotten to rest since we set up camp. She tries her hardest to seem interested but even I can tell that something is wrong. Only when I catch Gale giving her a sidelong glance do I really consider the option. I know that Katniss isn't one to admit to anything unless asked, and I'm much too polite to ask no matter how nosey I am. So I let it slide and try to seem interested in Haymitch's voice.

As Haymitch speaks I hear Posy and Vick and another younger boy laughing about something awhile away and it makes me smile. I listen to them giggling without a care in the world and desperately wish that it was that easy. I wish they didn't have to live in fear like they do, that they could just laugh and laugh and everything would be okay.

We get rid of one terror only to submerge ourselves in another. It isn't fair.

"You with us, Princess?" Haymitch's sharp voice intrudes my thoughts. I lift my gaze immediately and find him staring blankly at me. "Or is this too boring for your tastes?"

"Bypass 11," I repeat. "Drop down under 10 and squeeze through the wilds that separate 10 and 4." Gale doesn't try to hide his smirk as I echo the plan that Haymitch just spat out. "It'll take longer but it's less risky. It'll be warmer that way and we'll avoid having to cross through the mountains."

Haymitch narrows his eyes before returning his gaze to the map. "Exactly."

"Haymitch," Peeta interrupts, but a bit more politely than any of the others. Thankfully the old man doesn't seem angry, he turns to his once tribute with ease. "You do realize that when we get to the Capitol we'll have to walk the train tracks inside, right? And that's only if they haven't closed those off." Peeta narrows his bright blue eyes back down at the map. "Maybe going to the Capitol isn't our best plan."

"It's all we've got, kid," Haymitch nearly growls. "You think we're capable of starting over all on our own?" I let out a deep sigh and drop my gaze to my hands. "What was that, Princess? You've got something to say?"

"I think you're being irrational," I nearly snap at him. Haymitch used to spend a lot of time over at my house drinking away his sorrows and reminiscing about Maysilee with my mother, which, if you ask me, only added to her pain. I've never held my tongue with him and I'm not about to start. "Maybe we're not ready to go off on our own, but to walk straight into the arms of the people who kick started the whole thing?" I shake my head in disbelief. "You're not making any _sense_, Haymitch!"

"We. Don't have. Another. Option," he growls. Proja blows air out of his nose and tilts his head away. "What are you hoping for, District 13 to lower themselves out of the sky and save the day?" Haymitch snorts and shakes his head. "Ain't gonna happen. As far as we know we're the only people left. Here, and the Capitol. Because they've been sending out communications. That's it." Gale keeps his jaw locked and his eyes downcast on the map. "I get it, this isn't the best plan, but it is _literally all we've got_."

Everyone surrounding around the map is quiet for a very long time. No one speaks. No one moves. We watch Haymitch as his eyes scan over us, angry and unforgiving. I eventually drop my gaze as well, letting out a deep sigh that signifies defeat.

"I think that's enough for today," Peeta finally murmurs. He reaches for the map, folding it fourteen or fifteen times before it's small enough to transport easily. "We can go over it again tomorrow" He gives Katniss a look who only nods, and then she pushes herself to stand and follows after him.

Haymitch is next to leave. Then Proja.

"Come on, Katniss," I hear Peeta's voice in the silence. I glance over my shoulder at the pair of them. "You need to rest."

"We're not even sure that she—"

"Hey, it's okay," Peeta nudges her away from where I sit, their voices drifting away. "Prim's doing what she can for now. We'll just have to ask to see…" After that his voice drops below a sound I can register.

When I return my gaze to the spot where the map was sitting just moments ago I find Gale watching me. His gaze is hardened and he's leaning back, his arms hanging over his knees leisurely. I still feel small under his eyes and find myself looking away almost at once.

"I'm not one for strategy," I finally murmur. Gale cocks an eyebrow. "I don't know why I asked to sit in." My words don't matter much to anyone anyway. Curiosity, I guess. "I only upset Haymitch."

"Doesn't take much to do that," Gale tells me. When I look up again he's softened a bit. Might even be smiling. I'm still not sure what that really looks like, a sincere smile from Gale Hawthorne. But what he says gets me to laugh anyway. "If I knew I could survive without everyone else, without the group…" he trails off, shaking his head. "This is a suicide mission."

I frown. "You really think so?" Gale lets out a deep breath and lifts his shoulders slightly. "Then take off into the woods," I tell him. "That's the only way to guarantee your family's safety."

Gale's eyes trail over to someone at the camp and he watches them for a while before turning back to me. "Remember back when Katniss fell from the tree to the other side of the fence?" he asks. "Middle of winter, right after they turned it back on?" I nod, though the memory is faint. She tried to tell me she slipped on ice but I wasn't that stupid, she told me later what really happened. "Katniss told me she met people who were headed to District 13."

"District 13 is a wasteland, Gale," I murmur. It still smolders. "Even if there were communities up there or something it might be radioactive, it's highly unstable. Rubble everywhere." Again he shrugs. "You're not thinking about heading up _there_ are you?"

"I don't know, Undersee," he grunts. "Just bouncing ideas off of you. Alright?" He pushes himself up to stand. "Never mind. Forget I said anything." I reach after him and call out his name but he's already gone, marching away and leaving me alone.

* * *

"…so the prince searched the entire land for the girl who could fit her foot into the shoe," I tell Posy. The tiny girl yawns, her eyes flicker shut. I smile and reach down, brushing her hair from her face. It's been a long day for all of us. Little Posy wore herself out. Vick's already asleep.

"Keep goin'," she murmurs, her voice filled with sleep. "Wha_happ_uned?"

"The prince looked for weeks," I continue patiently. I'll drag this part out so I can continue it later. I know she'll want to hear the ending. "He went to every single household and talked to every single girl. All he wanted to do was find the girl with the foot that would fit into the glass slipper."

I pause for a moment, and when she doesn't urge me forward I can't help but smile. I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, whispering a quick goodnight despite the fact that she's already gone.

As I sit back up someone wraps their arms around my waist. I squeak in panic only to sigh in relief after realizing it's Gale who's there. My heart flutters as he chuckles, pulling my back all the way against his stomach.

"Did I scare you?" he asks. He speaks soft and low, it sends shivers down my spine. Before I can even answer he presses his lips to my neck. "Sorry," Gale murmurs. The vibrations of his voice dance over my skin and tingle all through my body.

Gale continues kissing my neck, traveling upwards to my jaw. The entire sensation is new to me and leaves me at a loss of oxygen.

"Gale," I force out. He hums in question but doesn't relent. "I-I'm not good at this." He chuckles again, and I pull away, only slightly, so I can see his face. "What's so funny?"

"What's there to be good at?" he asks. Gale smushes his forehead against mine. His nose brushes my cheek. I try to hold his gaze no matter how unsteady I am. He leans down slightly, skimming his lips over mine. "You're plenty good."

"I don't…" I sigh pleasantly as he turns me completely, my legs nearly straddling him. He lifts both of his hands to my cheeks, pulling me toward him again. "Kissing," I blurt. "I'm not good at kissing."

He cocks an eyebrow, stretching his lips until they meet mine. "Agree to disagree?"

I've only maybe kissed two other boys. Awkward, almost forced, kisses after dates that my parents set me up on to try and find me a proper husband for the future. Stumbling in the night, near misses. They were all… unskilled.

Gale's mouth, on the other hand, does exactly as it should. He knows what he wants, what he likes. How to kiss, how to make my cheeks run hot. He trails his nose down mine and smirks. His eyes are wide and dark, even with nothing but the flickering campfire I can tell. His lips cover mine again, slow at first, careful, but eventually he breaks down my wall and lets himself let go. His tongue slides over my bottom lip more than once, his teeth brush against my delicate skin as he pulls me closer.

His hands slide into my hair, curling his fingers through and holding me in my place. I feel him smile against me as I sigh into his mouth, and then he breaks for air. Gale doesn't get far, his lips kiss down my chin.

"Bet you k-kiss all the girls like that," I say with my voice high. His grin only widens. He kisses my cheeks. My nose. My entire body is shaking. "I'm probably an amateur compared to them."

"Learning is half the fun," Gale tells me. "Listening to the sounds you make," he adds, his voice only a whisper. He delivers quick chaste kisses between each sentence. "Feeling your hands on my chest. I've got a lot to learn, Undersee."

"Me too," I admit, half laughing. Gale licks his lips and goes to kiss me again but I tilt out of the way. "Wait, slow down," I breathe. The feelings he give me are indescribably amazing but they're also overwhelming. His face flickers with a bit of guilt, and before he can say anything else I slide my hand up his neck to his cheek. "I have more to learn than you," I tell him.

And then, on my own burst of courage, I press myself up and kiss his upper lip. When I pull away he has a mischievous glint in his eyes, and he looks away before his smile reveals too much. I want to tell him that I like it when he smiles like that, like he's just been told the most unbelievable thing and he can't help but shine. That he gets little wrinkles near his eyes when he smiles like that, that he looks truly _happy_.

"Come on," Gale turns toward our blanket. "Let's get some sleep."

He goes to drag me to lay down but I push him away. "I have to pee," I admit. I try my hardest not to blush but can feel it anyway, and then Gale chuckles, gesturing towards the trees. There's a look in his eye that almost says _be careful_, and I force myself up before he can voice it. I grab some makeshift toilet paper from the stash we've made and scurry away.

Before I walk alone into the woods I make sure that I have the knife Gale gave me during the initial attack on our camp. I tried to give it back to him but he insisted I keep it. Even found me a holster so I could wear it around my hip. Probably something he found in town when scavenging for supplies. Maybe it's from the Hob before it was burned. Anyway, with the knife on my hip I at least feel a bit protected. Better than nothing. Who knows what could be in these woods?

Thankfully, I also know that if I'm gone too long Gale will come looking. Less time for one of those freaks to get me. I have to pee quick, though, because he might walk up with my zipper down and I don't think that would be very pleasant for either of us.

After dipping behind a tree and squatting – _ugh,_ I miss bathrooms – I pee as fast as I can. After cleaning myself up and discarding of the evidence, I hear a rustling. Thankfully my pants are already zipped. I tear the knife from out of the holster in a panic and spin around to the noise. Bracing myself for the worst I take in a deep breath…

* * *

_A/N: Sort of slow chapter. Mapping out for the future ones. If you didn't know, I'll be gone this entire summer so I don't know if I'll get to update. I'll try my hardest to get new chapters out but no promises. The only promise I can make is that I won't abandon the fic, I hope you won't either. _


	14. When She Was Sick

"Madge?" Peeta's voice rings out quietly through the darkness. I sigh in relief and lower the knife, thrusting it back into the holder on my side. "You still out here?"

"For heaven's sake, Peeta Mellark, I swear I would've killed you," I breathe.

His chuckle rolls through the air. "Are you done peeing yet?"

"Thankfully," I mutter. He marches into the space near me, ducking under branches and maneuvering around bushes before I can see him. He brushes his fingers through his bangs. I go to leave him alone to do his business, but he stops me, his hand resting on my arm. "What?" I ask. "Scared of the dark?"

"I'll pretend you didn't say that," Peeta mutters. When he was a little kid I would tease him about his fear of darkness which was totally mean, I know, I just couldn't resist. It only makes sense that he wouldn't want to take a leak all by himself. "This is the only time I could talk to you."

I freeze again, shifting back on my feet and narrowing my eyes. "What do you mean? We just talked at dinner." And we did. His eyes kept trailing over to Katniss so I kept conversation short, knowing he was worried about something, but it was talking nonetheless. "What's wrong?"

Despite my eyes adjusting to the darkness all I can really see is Peeta's outline. He shifts uncomfortably. "Can I ask you something?"

"…Sure?"

"It's… personal."

I cough to clear my throat, glancing over my shoulder despite not being able to see anything. "Um, sure, Peeta."

"It's about your mom," he adds rapidly. Relief that it's not something entirely awkward, as well as intense confusion washes over me. That, and it suddenly feels like I've been punched in the gut. I don't want to talk about my mom. "Madge?"

"Go on," I choke out. But I'll do anything for Peeta. He's lost enough people, has been through enough trauma, that he's allowed this privilege. We've been friends for as long as I can remember. "Ask."

"When she was sick," he speaks at a rapid pace, constantly throwing glances over his shoulder. "With the real thing, you know? How did she act? What were the symptoms?" I blink a few times, not sure why it is that he's asking me this. "Never mind," he blurts quickly. "I just – I was just wondering. It's really—"

"She was never bitten," I finally muster out. Whenever I close my eyes I can still see her. Weak and frail. How did she come to be like that? Was it because of her already fading state? I'll never know. "But she, um," I cough again, clearing my throat. "More withdrawn than before. Her eyes were… they were always red." It's getting harder and harder to swallow. I take a deep breath. "Why do you want to know?" I blurt out.

"I was just thinking about it," he murmurs. "I know it's hard for you, I just… I'm sorry. I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it."

Peeta has always been able to move a crowd with the way he speaks. He's always been able to lie his way out of anything because he's so dammed good at it. But not this time. I can hear it in his voice.

"Something's wrong," I croak. He flinches. "What is it?"

"Madge, I—"

"You want to know what was wrong with my mom?" I ask, stepping toward him. Anger bubbles up inside me. Why will no one tell me what's wrong? "She coughed. All the time. Like she was trying to get her own lung to come up her throat." Peeta turns his head away from me. "And she threw up blood like she had been drinking it." He lets out a sharp breath. "And she was cold. Her fingers were _cold._ Like she was slipping into hypothermia no matter how many blankets we piled on top of her."

"Madge," he tries again.

I can't stop my voice from rising, "But sometimes she wasn't. Sometimes she was on fire. It _hurt_ to touch her because of how hot she was. Nothing would cool her down." I know it's not right for me to do this. It's not fair. I'm being selfish and rude but I can feel my throat closing and I'm starting to suffocate and I can't breathe. "So _tell me_ what's _happening_!"

"Madge?" Gale's voice comes from over Peeta's shoulder. "Are you okay? Who are you talking to?" Peeta spins around but I'm still panting, out of breath, just like she was out of time. All I see is red and red and more red. Gale moves into the moonlight and freezes. "The hell are you doing out here?" he snaps at Peeta.

"Gale, I had to ask, I had to—" Peeta can't even get a word in.

Gale growls and charges forward, "I told you to keep her _out_ of it! What did you _tell_ her?"

"Nothing!" Peeta yells back. "I didn't—"

"Tell me about what?" I croak. Both boys turn to face me, their faces changing when they realize that I'm still here. "I knew something was wrong," I whisper. "I could feel it." Peeta looks sorry. Guilty. Gale is panicked. Angry. "I already know something's wrong," I whimper. "So just tell me. Please. Please just tell me."

Peeta glances back toward Gale who looks as though he's going to strangle him right here and now. Eventually he tips his head forward and Peeta starts toward me.

"It's Katniss's mom," Peeta whispers. "During the attack she… we think she was bit… or _something_, we just… we don't know." My eyes dart over to Gale who remains frozen, only his gaze isn't on me it's somewhere else. That's why Katniss has been out of it. That's why I haven't seen Mrs. Everdeen apart from the very first night we arrived. They must've taken her somewhere. "We're just trying to figure out what to do."

"Why don't you ask her what happened?" I rasp. I need something to drink. I need to lie down. "Why couldn't you have asked someone else what happens when they get sick?"

"You're the only one that's really seen it," Peeta continues. These families survived by hiding out and avoiding the plague. I survived by luck. He's right. I know more about this than any of them. "We've been keeping her sedated, it might… it might help, we don't know." He takes a step toward me, trying to rest his hand on my arm but I jerk away. "Madge," he tries.

But I don't want to hear it. I can't hear it. I don't want to. I won't.

I push past Peeta and I push past Gale and I focus on my breathing and my breathing and nothing but my breathing. In and out, inhale exhale. I'm not even all the way back to camp yet when someone's arms are wrapping around my waist.

"Don't touch me," I hiss, desperately trying to push him away. "Don't touch me!"

"Madge," Gale growls. "Be quiet, people are sleeping."

"You _knew_!" I snap at him. Gale only drags me backwards, away from the other survivors who are passed out. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep waking people. "You knew," I repeat, dropping my voice. "You knew and you didn't say anything. You said nothing was wrong."

"Because I knew you'd act like this," he grunts. "Listen to me," he murmurs. Gale spins me around, pinning me against a tree. "They're not sure if she was bitten." I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. "Hey," he whispers. He cups my face with one of his hands. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"You should've said something."

"I know. Now can we go to bed?"

"No."

I don't want to go to bed with him. I want to go on a walk. I want to break into a sprint and take off from this place. I want to run until I can't feel my legs anymore, until I'm heaving in air because I can't breathe. I want my mom.

"You're mad when we don't tell you," Gale grunts, "and you're pissed when you find out. What do you want me to do, Madge?"

And again, Gale is right. I had a right to know, I did, but this is something I should have stayed away from. Peeta should've known that. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. I swat at my eyes and turn away from him but he doesn't let me get far. His hand reaches forward, sliding around my hip and tugging me back toward him.

And what ever happened to my dad? Did he go through the same torture my mother did? Get bitten and then hole himself off somewhere, hiding and waiting to die? Did he end his misery before it could overwhelm him? Was he torn apart, piece by piece?

I shudder at the thought and Gale wraps me in his arms.

"Let's go to bed," he whispers. I don't have the strength to pull away again.

* * *

Gale slips into a deep sleep before I can. I know he tried to stay up with me, his hand tracing random patterns gently on my back. It was soothing for a bit. It reminded me of when I was a little girl and I had a bad dream, and my mother would sooth me back to sleep. But Gale isn't my mother. My mother is dead.

He murmurs something in his sleep I can't make out and I roll into his grip. If I can't sleep at least I can stay warm in his arms. Right?

Gale shifts. I don't know what time it is but I haven't slept yet. I keep staring at the sky, looking for something. I don't know what. A shooting star, maybe. A change in the color of the night. But when he shifts he stirs, turning to me with heavy eyes.

"You're still awake?" he murmurs. His voice is thick with sleep. If I wasn't so emotionally drained it might make my heart flutter. He tugs me back against his chest and buries his nose in my hair. "Get some sleep. For me."

"I can't."

His lips skim my earlobe. "Even for me?" Even for him. I turn my body away from his and feel his arm settle around my waist. How did we end up like this? A hopeless situation has thrown us together, but why? Does he even really care about me? Just as I think he's fallen back asleep, Gale sighs. "Don't close yourself off."

"I'm just thinking."

And if he does, what's there to like about me? He wants to protect me because he feels like he has to. But why? Not because he likes me, he can't really like me.

"About what?"

"It's late," I blurt. "Go back to bed."

"About what?" Gale asks again, his voice softer.

"You." And it's true. "I just don't understand."

"Because everything and everyone is dead," he breathes. "Even me. And you make me feel alive again."

* * *

In the morning I'm not sure I'm groggy again. Like I need to sleep. Questions pulse through my veins but I can't decide if I'd rather lay here and wait for Posy to wake me or if I should just wake up. It's overly conflicting.

_You make me feel alive again_. What a line. He was half asleep when he said it, I was half asleep when I heard it. Maybe I didn't hear it at all. Maybe I made the whole thing up. Maybe he was just rambling. I groan and feel Gale's arms tighten around me.

Warm. He's always so warm. I nuzzle into his chest and listen as he exhales, murmuring my name. My lips curl into a smile. I decide on sleep.

* * *

_Her hand was cold in mine, despite the fact that she was sweating. Her skin had faded from pale to gray. _

"_I don't have much time, Madgey," she told me. I shook my head. I didn't want to hear it. As long as she kept on fighting, as long as she powered through this fever, she'd be okay. She was always okay. She was the strong one of our family. "It's different this time."_

"_It's just a bug," I told her. I wanted so badly to believe that it was just a bug. That whatever was inside her wasn't slowly killing her. That whatever caused her this much pain wasn't sucking the life out of her. "You'll be okay soon."_

_She tried to smile for me. It was awful how she was the sick one and I was still the one who needed reassurance. It was rude. It was selfish. She needed me more than I needed her and yet without her I wouldn't have been able to make it on at all. _

"_Sure, sweetie," she nodded. Her golden hair was lackluster. Greasy and dirty. I squeezed her hand. "I love you darling, you know that, right?"_

"_Of course," I had said. I knew she loved me. She was my mother. And I loved her. I still do, despite the fact that she's gone. "And I love you."_

"_Like the bees love the flowers," she continued weakly. I didn't want to cry so I didn't respond. "Like the moon loves the stars." That was supposed to be my line, but mothers always know when their children are frail. She smiled again, a bit brighter than last time but still lacking the usual flare she used to have. "It's different this time," she said again. _

"_Mom—"_

"_Margaret, honey," her voice was soothing. In death, in her broken state with red-ringed eyes, she was still so soothing. "I need you to listen to me." And I always listened to my mother. "I can feel this… this _darkness_ inside of me." I held my breath. I didn't want to hear it. "It's strong. Stronger than me." _

"_No it isn't," I protested. Nothing was stronger than my mother. "It isn't. You're just a bit under the weather, you'll get better."_

_But my mother couldn't pretend forever. Not even for me. She wrinkled her nose and turned her head away from me. She coughed. It was so loud and gravelly that I leaped from my seat. When I went to assist her she held her hand out and forced me away, coughing into her arm harder and harder until I thought she couldn't breathe. _

"_Go, Madge," she choked. My mother pointed toward the door. I wasn't ready to leave. I sat back in my seat. She sighed. My mother was strong. She had taught me how to be stubborn. "You shouldn't be in here. I don't want you sick, too." _

_I could see the blood on her arm. The blood that she hacked up from her coughing. I knew she didn't want me to see it. I pretended not to. It was easier to pretend. _

"_How'd you even get sick anyway?" I asked her. It's not like she could go outside and catch a cold. We barely even opened the windows for her. _

"_Those Capitol citizens always bring their illnesses here," she said tiredly. I knew she wanted me to leave, but I couldn't. "Some of them were in here the other day. I woke up to them poking at my IV." Anger rumbled in my chest. It still does when I think of the citizens from the Capitol. Prying around and snooping through the house as though they own the place. We might not have owned it either, due to it being Capitol property, but it certainly wasn't _theirs_. "They left at once. Something felt off."_

_I dropped my voice. "You think they tampered with it? Gave you something?" _

_Her shoulders lifted as high as they could, which wasn't very high at all. "It's hard to say," she told me. My mother hated conspiracies and she hated believing that the government was rotten, even though it really was, and she knew that. "Maybe just because I was already ill that—"_

"_That it affected you more," I continued for her. _

_Again she smiled. "That's right, sweetie," she nodded. My mother turned to the IV by her side. "I'm tired, now," she told me. "It's very dark."_

_I glanced out the window. It was nearly noon. Not a cloud in the sky._

_That was only the beginning._

* * *

I wake, smothered in Gale's arms. My forehead is sweating, my chest is heaving. Gale is shushing me again and again, his hands cupping my cheeks and forcing me to look at him. _Shhh_. _It's okay. It's okay._ He wipes my forehead with the back of his palm. He rubs circles on my back. _It's okay_.

"I want to see her," I blurt. I'm still panting but I know what I want. "I want to see Mrs. Everdeen."

Gale's eyes narrow and his head is tipping side to side before he even says anything. "Not a chance," he growls. His hands fall from my cheeks and a certain anger flares up in his vision. "Don't even _ask_ again."

My jaw drops. "Why not?" Gale tenses as though he's annoyed I've opened my mouth. "You have _no_ right to—"

"_No_," he snaps. His voice is filled with so much rage is sends me into silence. "We talked about it for all of twenty minutes and you're back to nightmares already, Madge!" I go to protest but he's talking before I get a word in. "The answer is _no_. You're not going to see her and she's not going to see you and we're never going to talk about it again because I don't enjoy watching you _fall apart_ at the fucking _seams_, alright?"

I shift away from him and turn my head. When he reaches out I jerk backwards and grunt, "Don't."

He drops his hands and growls again. "You don't _want_ to heal," he tells me plainly. There's an obvious amount of frustration in his voice. "You don't _want_ to move past this. You want to dwell on it. You want to _suffer_." Gale shakes his head and shoves himself to his feet. "Fine. Go talk to Peeta, he'll take you."

I want to _scream_. Gale marches away from me without looking back, his footsteps soft against the wet grass of the morning. He's not even going to come with me? I ball my hands into fists and launch myself into a standing position. It takes me less than 10 seconds so spot the youngest Mellark and I'm running over to him at once, not caring that the water from the grass is soaking through my socks.

When I reach Peeta he looks upset. On the verge of some long drawn out apology for the night before. But I don't give him the chance to speak.

"Take me to her," I demand. He stares at me for a long time, but eventually, he nods.

* * *

_A/N: Shout out to **S. Lily Potter** for guessing what was correctly happening! How she figured it out I have no idea but hey, good job. Of course Gale is angry. He doesn't understand why they're going into the Capitol and he doesn't understand why Madge is going to Mrs. Everdeen because the only thing that makes sense to him is leaving all of this behind and everyone just continues to dig into it. You know? Poor Mrs. Everdeen. Mayhaps we'll find out what's happened to her in the next chapter. _


	15. Extra Baggage

The trek over to Mrs. Everdeen isn't too long, but by the time we arrive my stomach is aching. I should've gotten something to eat. Peeta leads me through a few bushes and under some trees, and we find Mrs. E in a makeshift shelter. Her skin is pale and she has a light sheen of sweat covering her forehead.

Almost at once I know that she's been bitten.

It has everything to do with how she lays and how she looks. There's no mistaking that she's a goner, and that there is absolutely nothing I can do to change it.

Katniss emerges from behind the shelter but she barely even registers me before pushing past us and tending to her mother. I know that there are few people Katniss truly cares for, and even though she and her mother were never very close this must be killing her inside. Katniss rests a damp cloth on her mom's forehead and eases away as the elder shudders a bit.

Concerned, Katniss finally looks up toward me. "I didn't want to involve you," Katniss says quickly. There's a certain guilt in her eyes that I choose to ignore. "I didn't want—"

"It's okay," I cut her off. This is what friends do. And Katniss and I are friends. "Can I see her?" I don't add alone, because I think both Katniss and Peeta know it's implied. The brunette nods and pushes herself to her feet, quickly hurrying off with Peeta and casting me an uneasy glance as they disappear from view. "I can do this," I remind myself quietly.

I can. I know I can.

But why do I need to?

With a deep breath I lower myself to the ground and grab her hand. My eyes drift shut and I see my mother. I remember those times in which I would hold her hand and pray and pray to God above that she was okay. I have to say goodbye. I have to do it now. Mrs. Everdeen twitches slightly and I remind myself that my mother has passed, passed entirely, and is in a place much better than this one.

She is gone, gone, gone.

Her hand is cold but she still sweats. I know that she won't last.

Not wanting to invade anyone's personal space I squeeze her hand once and then force myself to my own feet. Katniss and Peeta return almost at once. "The fever will burn her out," I tell them quietly. "She was bitten somewhere. No matter how small it is or where it was, the infection is inside her now." Katniss's eyes turn hard and cold, but eventually she comes to accept what I've told her. "Check her hands," I offer. "Ankles, if you're looking. Places that are easily accessible but not where you would think to search. But even if you find the wound…"

Again, Katniss nods, but Peeta stands there stunned. "That's it?" he chokes out. I tilt my head toward him, watching his eyes widen in disbelief. "What can we do? There's got to be something!"

"There's nothing," I answer simply. "Make her comfortable while she's still around." Peeta's jaw remains unhinged. "Put her down before she wakes back up," I add carefully.

Finally, Katniss speaks. Her voice is harsh and shaky. "What do I tell Prim?" she asks.

My shoulders lift as I say, "The truth."

* * *

I spend most of the rest of my day with Proja and Delly. They're not as forward about their feelings for each other as Gale and I, I suppose, but sometimes their hands will graze and Delly's cheeks will turn pink or Proja's eyes will find hers and he'll smile. It's refreshing to see them like this.

They, too, know about what's happened with Mrs. Everdeen. Both of them avoid the topic like it's the infection itself, changing the subject to other things almost at once. My gaze often strays to Prim and Rory who sit side by side, continually talking in low hushed voices. I almost wish to go over and pat Prim on the back but I know that she would much rather prefer Rory by her side than me.

"So," Delly says as she digs a stick into the ground. "Are you and Gale dating now?"

"I hardly think anything counts as dating, Del," I murmur. "The world's come to an end and dead people are walking around." The yellow haired girl across from me frowns, dropping the stick with a _pthidt_. Proja rolls his eyes and eases backwards on his hands. "I don't know. What's it matter?"

"He seemed pretty pissed off when you walked away with Peeta this morning," Proja adds nonchalantly. Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Not that Gale doesn't ever really seem not pissed off." Almost as though the boy in question would've heard him, Proja cocks his head and glances over his shoulder. Gale went hunting earlier, though, so is obviously nowhere in sight. "I think what Del is trying to ask is if you two are serious or not."

These questions annoy me, because _honestly_, why is it important? Mrs. Everdeen is three hundred feet away from us, shriveling into a corpse. Our entire District is just about dead and gone.

"Aw, Madge," Proja lets out a laugh and shakes his head. "Don't look at me like that!"

His lips curl upward and a dimple appears on his left cheek. Only then do I smile. "You look like Taftan when you smile like that," I say. Only once the words are out do I realize what's happened. His smile eases into a straight line, and eventually he drops his gaze. "Wait, I didn't mean—"

"No, no," Proja shakes his head. My stomach feels hollow. "It's okay."

"Proja—"

"It's okay, Madge," he repeats sternly. His gaze lifts for a moment, looking behind me quickly before meeting my eyes. I don't have to turn to know who he's seen. Gale's back. "I miss Taftan too."

I wrinkle my nose and look toward the ground. I miss Taftan _a lot_. Of course I'm not going to say I miss him more than Proja or Peeta does, they're blood. But I felt like part of that family, too.

My eyes lift as Gale passes us. He has a few birds slung over his shoulder and his bag looks pretty packed.

"I'm going to help with dinner," I tell them softly. Delly smirks when she follows my gaze. Exasperatedly I lift myself from the ground, listening to my friends laugh as I make my way over to him.

Honestly, I'm nervous that he's still going to be angry with me for this morning. But after seeing Mrs. Everdeen I'm still a bit shaken up and I think he'll understand. Right?

As I reach Gale he tilts his head at me, but then goes back to unloading his prizes near Greasy Sae. I drum my fingers on my hip. "Need any help?" I ask.

"No."

Sae, obviously noticing the tension between us, says nothing and accepts what Gale gives her in silence. The old woman makes a face after looking between us a few times but then drops her gaze altogether.

After a few seconds pass I ask, "You sure?"

"I'm sure," Gale mutters. He swings his backpack over his shoulder and starts pulling out squirrels and rabbits. "I'm trying this new thing where I don't take help or advice or anything of the sort from anyone but myself." I narrow my eyes at him as he turns to face me. "It's going great."

"Gale—"

"Listen, kids," Sae cuts me off. "I have dinner to cook. I know you ain't takin' advice from anyone, sugar," she says to Gale, "so I'm not going to suggest it. Get away from me while you're fightin', yeah?"

Without another words I grab his wrist, tugging him away from Greasy Sae and her pots and cans, forcing him to follow me. "You're being ridiculous," I tell him as we walk. Gale doesn't respond. In fact, I'm sort of surprised that he's still near me. We stop by a cluster of trees. Camp is in view but no one's close enough to hear us. "I had to see her, Gale."

"What for?" he snaps. "It's not like you can do anything." I open my mouth to answer him but then find myself at a loss of explanation. How do I even begin? "She was bitten," Gale tells me. "And she's going to die. And all we're doing is waiting around until she does because at the moment she's just extra baggage."

And it feels like he's slapped me. So I do the only thing I can think of. Slap _him_.

The sound echoes through the area around us and Gale is frozen, his cheek tilted away as if he hasn't recovered from the blow.

"Apologize," I snap.

"You first."

I march forward and dig my finger into his chest. "Katniss's mother is dying," I hiss at him. "I thought maybe if I went, maybe if I saw it I could change it. I know that's dumb and doesn't make any sense but I thought maybe things would be different this time." Slowly, his head tips down and his eyes meet mine. "And maybe I needed a bit of closure for myself, okay? And now… now Katniss knows that I'm here for her and I know what she's going through and I think it's entirely too unfair that you're being so _rude_!"

"Rude?" Gale lets out a dry laugh. "I'm being honest."

"You don't know what it's like to lose someone like that," I tell him. "To watch them change. To see them falling apart."

"I've lost _plenty_ of people," he growls. Gale drops his hands down and encircles my wrists. "Don't you tell me that I don't know what it's like to hurt because _trust me_, I do." His grip is fierce and his eyes are filled with fire. "And I never got closure. And I never will."

"So you take it out on me?" I snatch my hands back and take a step away. "You're un_believ_able!"

"Is anyone thinking anymore?" Gale asks, lifting his hand and tapping at his head. "Because _you_ are basically throwing yourself at the closest freak we have practically waiting to get bitten. And _Haymitch_ thinks it's a good fucking idea to walk right into the Capitol as though they'll have all the answers there just _waiting _for us." He waves his hands in the air and makes a face of disbelief. "I don't get it! We are fighting for our _lives_ here!"

"I don't understand why you're so upset with me," I finally say. My voice has dropped back to normal level. I don't want to argue anymore.

"You're being so careless," Gale mutters, shaking his head and turning away from me. "And I don't want to watch you…" he trails off tiredly, sighing. "Never mind."

"Watch me what?" I pry.

"I watched my mom fall apart when my dad died," Gale tells me roughly. "She's fine now but it was _awful _when it happened. And then I watched my best friends _torn_ apart when this whole thing went to shit. And both are just as bad." Finally he turns back to me, his eyes no longer filled with anger or frustration. "I don't want to watch _either_ happen to you."

* * *

Unable to decide if I'm still angry with Gale or not, I let him hold me at night. He nuzzles into my side and grips me fiercely, a different kind than earlier today. That was fear and anger inside him, and now it's just fear. Maybe a sort of protection, too.

"I should've gone with you," he whispers. I tilt my head up to see him and he brushes my bangs from my face. "To see her."

"It would've been nice," I nod.

But we both know that he's irrational and it doesn't make much of a difference now that he didn't go. If I'm going to survive in this new world I need to know how to do things alone, anyway. I need to be stronger.

"I'm sure Katniss is happy you went," he murmurs. "I shouldn't have tried to keep it from you."

"No, you shouldn't have."

Gale bends down until his lips graze my upper cheek. "I'm just not thinking properly," Gale tells me tiredly. "It's like even when I sleep I'm not sleeping. I need to be doing something. All the time. I feel like I need to _do_ something."

"You are," I respond. "You're keeping us fed. You help keep us safe." Gale grunts and pulls me closer. His lips skim the skin below my nose. "This'll all be figured out one day."

"But what about _today_?" he asks. I know it isn't a question he wants answered but I do so anyway.

"Today," I tell him, "I feel safe when you hold me. And I like when you kiss me. And it makes me upset when you yell at me for no reason." Gale's fingers curl through my hair gently. "_Today_ I focus on you because it's a lot easier to deal with all of this when you're by my side." He sighs and wrinkles his nose. "What is it?"

"Did you love Taftan?" he asks me. The question is so sudden and unexpected nearly lurch into a sitting position. I know I'd be upright if he wasn't holding me so tightly. "I heard you talking to Proja."

"I…" It isn't that simple. "Not like you're asking, no."

Gale cocks an eyebrow, turning more toward me and propping himself up on his elbow. "Then how?"

"He was like a brother to me," I continue. For some reason my eyes won't meet Gale's. "I loved him like… like you love Rory or Vick or…" It's too difficult to find the words I want to say. "I miss him, and I still love him, but not in the sense that I'm longing for him."

It could've been something more, I think, if he had survived. If he was still alive today. Perhaps I would've realized how much Taftan meant to me, how much everything he did really _saved_ me. Or maybe he would've admitted his feelings for me. Maybe he was working up to it.

But I won't tell Gale any of this.

He purses his lips. "And me?"

"I think we were thrown together by circumstance," I admit. "And if we were still in the District you would still be pretending that I didn't exist and—"

I'm cut off by the sudden press of his lips against mine. Gale tilts my chin up and moves his mouth beautifully against mine. His breath comes out in gasps that bring me new life. His touch is warm and gentle. Gale's nose brushes against mine and a shiver runs down my spine. He must notice the effect he's had on me because he smiles, pulling away from me slightly.

My fingers are hooked onto his shirt so he doesn't get far, just enough room for him to speak.

"I don't want you to think," he breathes, "that all of this is happening because of circumstance." Gale cups my cheeks, his callused fingertips soft against my skin. "Maybe it threw us together like you said but it threw me with a lot of other people too. And you don't see me curling up next to Proja." He makes me laugh, and his lips curve up. "I like you, Madge. I like learning about you and I like talking to you and hearing how you think."

"Okay," I say.

"And if we were still in the District," Gale murmurs, and then shakes his head. "I don't know. What matters is that we _aren't_ there anymore. What matters is that I'm past that." My smile is still shining when he meets my gaze again. "What?"

"I always thought you were… different." He lifts an eyebrow and urges me on again. "Whenever you talk like this," I whisper, shrugging my shoulders, "it… captivates me."

He's still that same angsty brooding boy I once thought of him as, but there are so many more layers to him I had never thought to look for. It was close minded of me to think that Gale, of all people, was a one dimensional person. He is mean and foolish and bitter but he is also kindhearted and caring and, dare I say it, sweet.

Gale chuckles, pulling me closer and lowering himself back to sleeping position. "Just don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold."

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night we wake up to screaming.

Gale rolls over me at once, his body acting like a shield to mine immediately. I turn my head and watch Hazelle scooping Vick and Posy into her arms, and Rory leaping up in front of the group of them. Others around camp are awake as well. Gale's eyes are dark and sharp, suddenly alert despite being totally asleep moments ago.

The screams settle into a silence. Gale jerks his head over to look at Rory. The night is alive with insects chirping.

"It was Prim," Rory croaks out.

"_Rory_—" Gale warns, but in seconds the younger boy is sprinting toward where the screams came from. "Rory!" Gale leaps to his feet and looks at me, signaling _stay here_ with his eyes. He chases after his younger brother at once, sprinting to reach his speed.

But before either of them disappears into the brush, Katniss emerges with Prim attached to her hip. The tiny blonde is sobbing into her sister's side, muffled yet louder now that they're both closer to us. Rory's feet freeze, and Gale nearly runs into him. His arms swing around his brother and pull him backwards. I shift as though my body can protect Posy and Vick and Hazelle.

"Catnip," Gale's voice is low.

Katniss only shakes her head. She blinks a few times before pulling her gaze over to Peeta. Prim whimpers again. "It's over," Katniss whispers.

Prim peels herself from Katniss's side and rushes forward toward Rory. Gale releases his grip on the boy and lets her squeeze against him. Rory, though still young and childish, transforms into someone entirely new as he whispers soothing words to Prim. Gale starts toward Katniss but the brunette shrinks away, shaking her head.

Only when she moves into the moonlight do I see it. The blood on her hands. The glassy feature in her eyes. The way she shakes as she moves.

Katniss put her own mother down.

* * *

_A/N: I'm writing this on my phone so I don't know how well this will turn out. Awful chapter. I picture Gale a real sweetheart when it comes down to it and I hate when people make him nothing but mean. I just hope it's in character and realistic. _


	16. Stranger

Everyone in camp is tense as we start our march to the Capitol. Katniss is blank despite Peeta's attempts to comfort her, and Prim is a blubbering mess even with Rory by her side. Gale's quiet too, and when Gale's quiet so are the rest of the Hawthorne's – Hazelle included.

I focus on the aching of my feet and follow behind Proja, considering he's the person in front of me. We're all quiet. We're all tired. We're all scared. But we carry on.

When we stop for a water break it must be about noon. The sun is high in the sky, the birds are singing as though nothing is wrong.

Gale gives his water bottle to Posy before marching over to me. My hand finds his at once, I want to comfort him as best I can, and he smiles momentarily. It's one of force. There's no real reason to be happy now.

"I used to have dreams like this," Gale tells me gruffly. My eyes narrow but he corrects himself immediately. "Walking through the woods. Leading hikes for pleasure. Like it was my job, or something." He shakes his head and scans the remainder of our camp. "Just a lousy dream."

* * *

I'm so exhausted at night I barely have the strength to eat my dinner before curling into a ball and drifting into sleep. Hazelle smiles at me and nudges me with her elbow as I force down another spoonful of soup.

"You okay, Madge?"

"I'm okay," I nod. "Tired."

"I think we're all tired," she agrees, nodding with me. Her eyes drift to Gale who's across the area, talking animatedly to Peeta and Haymitch. Katniss is nowhere in sight. "You've been spending an awful lot of time with Gale," Hazelle says softly.

That wakes me up. I nearly choke on whatever's working its way down my throat and almost fall over.

"I—" I cough a few more times and shake my head. "I'm—"

"It's okay!" Hazelle laughs, patting me on the back as if that will help me breathe again. My cheeks are infinitely scarlet, I can feel my chest burning too. "Oh, Madge, it's okay!" Finally my airflow is back to normal but I still can't bring myself to look at her. My eyes are on the ground, focusing on every individual strand of grass. "I'm glad, Madge, I just wanted to make sure things were… serious?"

"I guess," I force out. Her hand rests on my shoulder and she gives a light squeeze. I know I can talk to Hazelle. I know she cares. "Is it weird? Me and Gale?"

"Not at all," Hazelle says. Her voice is so sweet and understanding I finally look up at her. She smiles brightly. "I'm happy you two have each other." And honestly, so am I. Her gaze returns to her son who is now listening to Haymitch blabbing about something. "He has watch duty tonight," she tells me, "and I know that you two are… well…" she trails off and smiles again. "I just wanted to know if you'd be okay."

I look up at Gale and shrug. "I think so." Hazelle squeezes my shoulder again, and I can't help but smile. "You sure it's not weird that I… that we…?"

"As far as I know you two are just sleeping beside each other," she tells me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And you know, the occasional kiss." Again I feel my cheeks heating up. "If there's anything… _else_ going on… I don't really care to know."

"There's nothing else," I say instantly.

She grins brightly. "If you say so."

* * *

_The bakery always smelled so good, even on cold wet days. It was four days after Gale's whipping, and if it wasn't for the snowstorm I still would've been able to see his blood in the square. _

_Taftan carefully placed my order into a brown paper bag. "I don't know how long it will hold up," he told me with a shrug. He glanced through his bangs, the blue bright and electric as his eyes met mine. "The bag might tear when it gets wet and with this snow…"_

"_I'm sure it'll be okay," I responded. And I meant it. I had another bag I could slip my order into anyway. He smiled and straightened himself, putting the rest of the cookies into the paper bag. "How're you feeling?"_

_His eyebrows narrowed. "Why?"_

"_There's some sickness going around," I shrugged. I just wanted to make sure he didn't have it. _

"_Oh," he muttered. Taftan rubbed at his arm. "I'm fine." I crossed the bakery more and leaned over the counter, pulling his arm toward me. "Madge," he protested. But in seconds I had rolled his sleeve up and could see the blotchy bruise on his bicep. He let out a deep breath through his nose and wouldn't meet my gaze. "Walked into the door," he lied._

"_No you didn't." He nudged me away and pulled his sleeve down, returning to the dinky old cash register the bakery had and punching in a few buttons. "Taftan."_

"_I'm fine," he grunted. Still, his eyes wouldn't meet mine. "She hasn't been as bad since Peeta got back, okay? It's not a big deal." _

_The thought of Mrs. Mellark hitting her children made me entirely too angry. It still does. Taftan was much too kind to hit back, all of them were. Proja would be the one most likely to retaliate, but once Peeta told me that he did and she just made it worse for him. I desperately wanted to report her to the Justice Hall, but Taftan had once convinced me that if I did that the bakery sales would plummet and they would go bankrupt. Whether it was true or not I believed him, and now I regret having said nothing. _

_I reached for his hand and pulled him toward me again. Though I know he was upset he let me push his sleeve up again. My fingers found his bruise at once and carefully traced the outline. _

"_Does it hurt?" I asked._

"_Only if you push on it. So don't." I knew that was his attempt at a joke but I wasn't in any laughing mood. "A little," he finally admitted. I dropped my hand back down to his and gave a light squeeze, watching his lips curve into a tiny smile. "It's not a big deal," he said again._

"_I know this great remedy to get rid of them quick," I had said. He already knew this, I'd used it on his cheek once before, but he still acted interested. "I'll bring it by tomorrow, okay?" _

"_Sure," he nodded. Taftan rolled his sleeve back down and finished typing in my order onto the cash register. "It really isn't—"_

"_A big deal," I finished for him. "But it is."_

_His shoulders lifted slightly. "I'll be okay." Taftan paused as I handed him the money to pay for my purchase. "Don't say anything."_

"_You know I won't," I murmured. I wanted to. It wasn't fair. The Mellark brothers were the sweetest people I had ever known. _

_His smile was soft. "Thanks." He nudged the paper bag forward slowly and cast a glance over his shoulder. "She can't keep it up forever. Something's got to happen someday." _

_And something did happen. I just don't think the end of the world was what Taftan had meant. _

* * *

I wake up in a start, but at least I'm not screaming. It's cold without Gale's arms around me. I rub the sleep from my eyes and force myself onto my elbows, and from here I can see him by the fire, poking it with a stick.

Taftan. I dreamt of Taftan. It pinches my stomach painfully at the memory of him. The times in which life was much simpler and he was much less vulnerable and very alive.

At once I force myself to my feet, barefoot and all, and make my way over to Gale. He spins around quickly when he hears my footsteps, thankfully he's doing his job well and taking it seriously, but smiles sleepily when I plop down on the rock next to him.

"You scared me," he murmurs. His arm extends around my waist and pulls me closer. Despite the fire I'm not warm until I nuzzle against his chest. "You okay?"

"Bad dream," I tell him. Gale lets out a deep breath. "Well, not really all bad. More of a memory." I shake my head and rest my forehead on his side. "I don't know." Gale rubs circles on my hip with his thumb, humming softly as I cling closer. He won't ask me to talk about it but I want to anyway. "It was about Taftan. You know, from before." At that he slightly tilts his head toward me. The fire reflects his moonlike eyes and in them I can sense a concern. "I miss all of it."

"I don't," he responds. Gale drops his forehead down to mine. "Sometimes I think this is better."

"You can't."

"I can, and I do," he says. "At least we have a chance out here."

"We had a chance in there," I say tiredly. Though there were peacekeepers and unfair laws and Hunger Games and whippings and mines and starvation… we were relatively safe. There weren't monsters lurching at us at every chance they get. There weren't dead people walking around. "I'm just tired."

"I know," he sighs. Gale lifts up his hand and tilts my chin toward him. "Me too." He stares at me for a long time, his eyes searching mine as though he can find an answer to an unspoken question in them. "You should go back to sleep." I shake my head a bit but he nods. "Go on."

Before he can shove me from the jagged rock we share I lurch forward, pressing my lips desperately against his. Gale grunts in shock but responds eagerly, sliding one of his hands around my waist and the other getting lost in my hair. After a moment he slides his tongue over my bottom lip until they part slightly. He dips into my mouth and groans quietly, pulling me up and onto his lap. My arms link around his neck and he pulls away briefly.

"You're awful," he scolds me. The blacks of his eyes are much larger than the gray, and the sight of it causes me to bite down on my bottom lip. Gale grunts again, leaning down and pressing his mouth to my chin. I sigh and cling to him with all I've got. "Should be sleeping," he continues. Gale kisses up my cheek until he reaches my earlobe and then nibbles gently. I shiver and can practically feel him smirk. "Cold?"

"Freezing," I lie.

Gale chuckles and slides both of his hands to my back, running his hands down my spine slowly. "You're beautiful," he murmurs. Gale kisses down my throat and scrapes his teeth lightly over my skin. "So beautiful."

"I'm dirty and probably smell weird," I murmur, despite the fact I can feel the heat in my cheeks. He chuckles again, kissing my clavicle softly. "Is that all I am?" I try to tease. "Some pretty little escape?" Gale jerks up from my neck so quickly he almost collides with my chin. The shock of his sudden movement has me nearly falling from his lap. "What?" I ask. I glance over my shoulder, did he hear something?

"Don't you ever say that," he growls. I turn back to him and find him staring at me, his eyes sharp and hurt. "Madge," Gale's voice is rough. He shakes his head, pulling my face into his hands. "I wouldn't do that to you." It takes me a moment to process what he's referring to.

"I was joking," I blurt.

Gale forces his lips to mine immediately, a frantic kiss of nothing but desperation. "Don't," he breathes. Again he kisses me, pulling me as close as he possibly can. "Don't joke about that." My lips part into a little _o_ before he kisses me a third time. "You're so beautiful," he whispers fiercely. "You understand that, don't you? God, you're beautiful, Madge."

"Gale—"

"Today when you were with my mom," he says suddenly, "eating dinner, I guess, you were talking about something that made your cheeks turn red." They start warming up now at just the memory. "And I only saw for a second, hell I don't even know what the conversation was concerning, but I saw you and I thought 'how did I get so _lucky_?'" All at once it's like I can't breathe. The fire at my back is no longer there and the people snoozing around camp are gone. It's just me and him. "You're right, we might have had a better chance inside the District, but if all this hadn't happened I never would've…" he trails off and sighs. Turns his head like he's done talking.

"No, keep going," I urge. "Please. Gale."

"Sometimes I think it was worth it," he grunts. "Because of you."

* * *

The next week of walking is awful. We're all tired and we're all hungry and we're all dirty. I spend most of my time trying to think of how to respond to what Gale told me. He can so easily open up to me but when I try to open my mouth all of my words die in my throat. How can I express to him how I feel for him in a way that is equal to what he's told me?

Gale makes me feel safe. Gale keeps me warm. He makes me laugh and lets me think and somehow, despite everything that's happened, he's allowed me to stay _positive _despite those times when it gets so damn hard.

Haymitch and Peeta spend a lot of time looking at the map making sure that we're going the right way. When they became skilled map readers I'll never know, but they seem to know we're not marching in a circle which is a start.

"We should be rounding on District 11 soon," Gale tells me that night. He's exhausted, I can tell by the way his eyes droop on his grip isn't as fierce as usual. He's been taking more night shifts to watch the camp than usual and it's really wearing him out. "There's a river coming up too."

I know that he just wants to sleep so I don't respond at first, just nuzzle closer and think again as to how I can tell him what he means to me. "You should stop taking extra watch shifts," I whisper.

He grunts. "I have to."

"You don't. Someone else can do it." His body is warm against mine, but I'm starting to feel some of his bones. We eat about one meal a day. It's starting to show. "_I _can do it."

"Like hell," Gale mutters. "You're not taking watch."

"Why not?"

"Because." That's not the answer I want but I don't try to push him. Instead I close my eyes and try to fall asleep, savoring these moments that Gale spends with me rather than defending the camp. We haven't had an attack since before we started this journey to the Capitol but we're getting closer to other Districts now and the fear is still very alive. "You don't know how to defend yourself," he adds what feels like hours later. "Maybe after I teach you some things."

My head cocks up and pops away from his chest. "You'd do that?" I ask.

"Of course," he murmurs. Gale's eyes find mine and I can tell that he's on the verge of sleep. They're glazed over and he has to blink a lot to keep looking at me. "I should've started a while ago. You need to know how to protect yourself if it ever comes down to it."

The way he has that leaves me feeling uneasy. The world tilts sideways and stars swim in my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Gale says sternly.

And I do. He means if he was to die and I was to be alone.

"Gale—"

"We can start tomorrow," he cuts me off. Gale pulls me closer to him again and I drop my head back down, using his chest as a pillow once again. "That's all I've got to say on the subject." He's asleep in minutes.

* * *

We find the river on the map the next day, proving that we're even closer to District 11 and District 6 than we originally thought.

Everyone celebrates. Posy swims for hours, we pass around water bottles like pirates would pass rum around their ship. All of us takes dips into the flowing water and wash it over us fully clothed. We scrub our hair and our skin and our clothing and we laugh and we laugh and we laugh for hours. Hazelle and the two other mother's spend most of the day doing laundry, working together and sharing the soap and laughing even more. Rory and Prim splash each other. Proja teaches Delly how to swim.

It feels like we can breathe again.

Greasy Sae suggests we set up camp and Gale shoots a few rabbits really quick and by noon we have a brew being cooked. Tonight we will eat ourselves full and we will sleep soundly and will wake up refreshed and restored.

Posy passes out before lunch is even ready, curling herself in a little ball in a pile of everyone's sleeping bags.

I lay out by the side of the stream and let the sun dry me. The warmth is so fantastic and liberating it shoots through my bones and reminds me that I'm alive. I've made it this far.

Just as I'm about to fall asleep in the warmth of the afternoon light I hear footsteps. I sit up quickly to find Katniss approaching me, and she makes a guilty face when she sees that she's startled me before spouting off her apology.

While looking at Katniss I notice that she's a lot cleaner than she was yesterday, but she still looks tired and broken. She lowers herself to the spot next to me and we lay in the sun together.

"I wanted to talk to you before this," I admit softly. It's been a very long time since the passing of her mother. "It just feels like there's never any real time to talk and I wanted to give you… space."

I thought maybe the sight of me would make her upset, knowing I was the person who told her she'd have to put her mother down. The memory leaves me heavy, it makes me feel sick and like my blood is full of sap.

"Peeta's really good," Katniss tells me. I can't bring myself to look at her. Even her voice sounds hopeless and sad. "He never makes me talk about it but sometimes I wish he would. Ignoring what I did doesn't mean it didn't happen." I swallow once and think back to that night. The one with Prim screaming and crying and Katniss emerging from the woods covered in her mother's blood. No one wanted the details, no one asked. It was her business. "She woke up before I put her down," Katniss says roughly.

I unwillingly wince. "I'm sorry."

"I kept hoping that she'd be okay," she says tiredly. Katniss rubs at her face for a very long time. "I thought maybe she wasn't really bitten." She shakes her head and removes her hands, tilting her head on the ground to look at me. "She lunged at Prim and I freaked out. I thought I was going to lose her _too_." When Katniss's voice cracks I sit up, and she follows too. "And Prim screamed and I _lost_ it I just attacked my own _mother_."

"You shouldn't have had to do that," I grunt. "You should've asked someone else to beforehand."

"I wanted to," she answers me. "I _had_ to. She was my mom."

And that's when I get it. It's why Proja had to be the one to put Taftan down. It's a way to say goodbye. It's how we know it's final.

Though I know it doesn't help I say, "I'm sorry, Katniss." Her shoulders lift slightly, the gray of her eyes seems a little less dull. "I wish there was more I could do." I wish there was more I could _say_. I wish none of this had to have happened in the first place. I drag myself across the ground over to her and place my hands on her shoulders. "We'll be at the Capitol soon," I tell her. Suddenly there's a fierce determination in her eyes. She nods. "Know that none of this was for nothing. We'll get there and we'll be safe and we'll be able to start over."

"Okay," she nods. "You're right."

"Good," I agree.

"But only after I kill President Snow."

Her words hang in the air for a moment, and as I open my mouth to respond we both hear a pair of footprints. Katniss and I turn to the source of the sound and freeze almost at once. Thick brown boots. Dark black pants stained with blood and dirt. A loose t-shirt with a very familiar emblem on it. The man in front of us is tall and large and dark skinned. He stares at us for a moment and then cocks an eyebrow.

"You can only kill the president if you get to him first," he responds. Katniss reaches behind her for her bow and arrow but the man extends his palms face out. "Don't you worry, girl on fire. District 11 ain't gonna hurt you."

* * *

_A/N: Hello! I think this is the last chapter I am going to get to post before camp, considering I leave Wednesday. I'll try my hardest to squeeze another one in but there aren't any promises. So if I don't get it up before then, know that I shall return and I'll get you another chapter and I won't abandon this story at all. I hope you stick with me! I love you all and will see you again soon. _


	17. Disturbance

There are so many of them.

District 12 is the smallest District in Panem, I know that, but there are so many survivors from District 11 it seems even _their remains _outmatch the entirety that we once were.

Okay, that's not true. But seeing a collection of at least 100 people in such a small vicinity has me constantly looking over my shoulder.

Gale's hand remains in mine. Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch keep their spot at the front of the group. We weave in and out through families and survivors, all looking thin and tired. Posy remains on her mother's hip. Vick trails silently behind them. Proja stands tall and doesn't look anyone in the eye. I try my hardest to seem invisible.

Everyone is watching us. Tack, the man who found me and Katniss in the woods, has led us here. Says that there are important people that need to be talked to. Says that with all the important people together that important things will be happening.

It felt like we had no choice but to follow him into the unknown, and if we were going to do that it had to be as a group. It isn't fair to let just a few remain back by the river. Besides, it's not like the District 11 survivors have any real reason to hurt us. We don't have anything they want. We're just as hopeless as they are.

Gale's grip tightens as we slow to a stop. Tack waves his hands in front of us, a silent way to tell us to stop walking, and then disappears behind a roughly assembled wall of wood. Swallowing becomes harder and harder to do, but Gale keeps his eyes locked with mine. A bright gray that might be somewhat hopeful if I weren't so terrified.

"I didn't want it to be this bad," Proja's voice comes from over my shoulder. Gale drops his gaze to look at the boy, once an enemy but now a sort of an ally, and tips his head in agreement. "I thought maybe it was just us."

"You knew it wasn't," I say. My voice is rough and strained. We're constantly being thrown from one situation into another and I don't know how much longer I can handle it. "We saw the papers."

"Yeah," Proja mutters. "But I wanted to hope."

Hope can be such a dangerous thing.

Gale's eyes are on mine again and Proja stumbles away to his brother, leaving me and Gale alone. "Are you okay?" he asks me. He knows I'm not, but I'm glad he asks.

"Sure," I lie.

I haven't really known how to talk to Gale after the other night. All of this could be worth it because of _me_, is what he said. And that's impossible. None of this is worth me. I can't be worth the danger and the risks and the losses. He must know that. He must. But his words have filled me with such confusion it leaves me stumbling over whatever I have to say.

How can I respond to a thing like that? As the mayor's daughter I'm supposed to be capable of speaking elegantly, but Gale always wins out on that one.

His mouth curves into a thin smile. "Okay," he says gently. His thumb runs over the back of my hand. How do I properly express my feeling for him, _to_ him? "If you say so."

Gale is everything. He's the reason I haven't given up yet. He's the reason I sleep at night and wake up in the morning. He comforts me and keeps me safe and cares for me in a way that no one else has. He makes me feel important. He makes me feel needed. He makes me feel loved.

I open my mouth to respond but my throat is dry. I'm at a loss for words again. Seemingly sensing this Gale sighs softly, pulling his gaze away from me. He glances toward the wall where Tack disappeared, squinting as there's an obvious movement.

Curiosity overtakes me as well and I turn, watching a pair of people emerge from the other side.

"Well I'll be dammed," Haymitch mutters. The old man strides across the ground hastily, his eyes wide and unreadable. Familiar. These people look familiar. And then Haymitch laughs, throwing his arms around the man as the woman watches with tear filled eyes. "We get out of one arena and are practically thrown into another," he grunts.

"When have we not been fighting for our lives, Haymitch?" the woman asks.

"Of course it would come down to us," the man responds. "Survival of the fittest." I blink a few times before it clicks. Has anyone realized it before me? "It's good to see you."

"You too, Chaff," Haymitch says as he pulls away. His entire being is happy. These are survivors since day one. "Seeder," Haymitch tips his head toward the woman. These are Victors.

* * *

"Do you trust them?"

Gale won't answer my question. It hangs heavily in the air, like gravity suddenly weighs a lot more than it should and is pressing down on my shoulders. He lies with his hands behind his head and his eyes on the sky, not really looking at anything. It's cloudy tonight, dark and heavy. An impending storm is what they tell us.

I nudge Gale with my elbow and his eyes dart toward me immediately. "What?"

"You don't trust them," I confirm.

"Leave it alone, Madge," he murmurs. Again his eyes are pulled from me, studying the hidden stars and the faint wisps of moonlight that can make it through the threatening sky. I swallow once and shrink away, trying to close myself off from him, but Gale is quick. His hand circles my wrist and keeps me firmly in place. "Haymitch trusts Chaff and Seeder's judgement. That should be enough."

"But it isn't," I grunt. I know how Gale is. He likes to call the shots. He likes to be in control. "Is it?"

It's been two days with District 11 and I know Gale is getting antsy. We've been eating better since we've gotten here but that doesn't mean much, we're all still skinny and hungry and tired on very much on the verge of giving up. More importantly, we're not moving forward. We aren't progressing. We're sitting still and staring at the rocks hoping they'll come up with an answer for us.

"Let's just lay down," he whispers. I don't have the strength to argue with him, so I ease backwards to his side.

The benefits of being with District 11 are this: Gale has yet to go on watch. He still goes hunting, sure, but I've gotten him all to myself every single night. His strong arms securely wrapped around me, his lips pressed to my temple. He's mine and no one elses, and I love it more than anything.

Somewhere behind us Vick and Posy are cuddled up with Hazelle, dozing quietly and without a care or worry in the world. Rory is probably nearby or has sneaked off to be with Prim again, trying his hardest to coax her into some sort of sense of security. Katniss is probably with Peeta. Proja probably with Delly.

But I'm with Gale, and that's what matters most.

Gale wraps his arm around my hip and tugs me to face him. His face is full of worry, he looks a lot older than he should. We're quiet for a moment, memorizing one another, before thunder rumbles off on the distance. I wince. Gale frowns.

"Haymitch says that storms in 11 can get really bad," he tells me. Again the sound of thunder echoes, and this time Gale closes his eyes as though he's in pain. He's scared, too. I can feel it pulsing through his body. "We might have to go into the District to protect ourselves."

"No," I blurt.

Gale eases his eyes open. "Madge—"

"_No_," I say again. No way in hell. Not after what happened to Taftan. Not after everything I've seen. The nightmares have been dwindling, I don't want them to come back. I can't go back into a District. Not _any _District. "I won't."

"You might not have a choice." Gale tilts my chin up and studies my expression. "We've been lucky this far with weather, and if it's as bad as people are thinking then we won't have any other option."

"You can't make me."

"I can," Gale grunts, "and I will." His thumb brushes over my cheek. "I'll keep you safe, Madge."

I believe that, I do, but it's not me that I'm worried about. The risk of losing Gale like all the others we've lost is so large and so painful I don't even want to consider it. It's a hollow pain, tangible and numbing, and the only thing that can make it go away is to kiss him.

I lurch forward and press my lips to Gale's, savoring the consistent warmth and the unfaltering gentleness of his touch. At once his body rolls over mine, his hands flit down my sides and my skin tingles whenever I feel him. Gale nibbles on my bottom lip and slides his tongue carefully into my mouth, keeping himself as close as he possibly can. His nose brushes mine, we share each others gasps. A noise I'd never made before crawls up my throat and then I can feel him smiling, his mouth in the perfect curve against me.

Gale pulls away reluctantly before feathering a few more kisses. "You are so wonderful," he tells me.

And then I say, "I love you."

Gale leans in to kiss me again but pauses before our lips even meet. "What?"

"What?"

He jerks backwards, his eyebrows knit on his forehead. "What did you say?" he asks. "You just said—"

"No, I..." my words falter again. I know he's heard me. Have I even heard myself correctly? "Gale, I didn't mean—"

He shifts upward instantly, his heat falling draining from me. "I," he's the one stumbling over his words now, "I... have watch. I have watch tonight."

"Gale—"

"I'll see you in the morning," he croaks. He stands awkwardly, his eyes filled with a recognizable panic, and stumbles to get his balance before quickly pacing away from me. Gale weaves through the survivors of District 11 and the small group of District 12 and then he's gone. And he doesn't look back.

* * *

Peeta would be the ideal person to talk to, considering I've known him my entire life and have told him every single one of my boy problems in detail since I was about six years old, but I can't get him away from Katniss and the thought of telling her what I've done is entirely too humiliating to even consider.

Delly would be nice, too, but I can't find her in the crowds of people. Proja's the first person I spot alone, so Proja it is. But he isn't ideal _either_.

His face is a combination of white shock and pink embarrassment for _me_ when I tell him what I've said. He repeats it slowly, trying to make sure I've told him the truth. "You told Gale..." he murmurs, "that you _love_ him?" Proja looks caught between confused and wanting to laugh at me. He settles on confused. "I didn't know you two were that serious."

"I don't know if we are," I admit weakly. "I didn't mean to say it, Proja, it just sort of... happened." I clamp my mouth shut when a couple from District 11 strolls by us and makes a face in our direction, wandering away at once. I think they trust us as much as I trust them, which isn't much at all. Proja and I alone in the woods whispering probably looks suspicious.

Once they're gone I take a deep breath. "I was just as confused as he was," I say quietly. "It's just... I've just been really scared lately," I finally admit. Enough brave faces, this is becoming too much. Meeting these strangers and the threat of the storm overhead has been driving me into panic. "And he makes me feel safe. I wasn't thinking and now I'm even more scared that I've really screwed things up."

"I'm sure you haven't," Proja whispers. He rests his hand on my shoulder. I know he still dislikes Gale despite the fact that they work together on the daily, but at this moment he doesn't seem to care too much about that. His eyes are sympathetic. "I wish I knew what to tell you," he says, "but I don't." He squeezes once before letting go. "Talk to him, Madge."

"I don't know how," I whimper. Again he looks upset. "Gale didn't come back to bed last night and he was gone before I woke up."

Proja cocks an eyebrow. "Gone where? He went on a run?"

"I guess." My head tips up toward the sky. Still gray. "I overheard Haymitch say something about stabilizing the Justice Hall so we can go there when it storms. It's the strongest building."

He reaches up to pick at his ear. "No one told me."

"I don't think anyone told Gale either, I think he went looking for a way to get out of here."

Proja sighs and drags one of his hands through his sandy-blonde hair. It's getting a bit long, I realize with a start, and then again I'm thinking of Gale who just yesterday say I could cut his own for him soon. Proja wrinkles his nose as if he knows what's going on in my mind.

"Maybe you should talk to Hazelle," Proja suggests. At the mere mention of Gale's mother my face heats up. "Hey," Proja's signature smirk is back, the one that reminds me that everything is going to be okay. "She knows more about her son than anyone. You should give it a try."

* * *

Not everyone is distrustful of District 11 as Gale might be. In fact, his younger siblings have befriended a group of children from 11 and they spend most of their time playing together. Rory and Prim sit on watch as Vick and Posy dance around in a circle singing nursery rhymes. The two preteens watch the kids like they're lifeguards from District 4, barely exchanging any words.

Of course, this leaves Hazelle free. She sits in range of her children of course but spends her time fixing up torn clothing rather than constantly tending to her kids.

"These District 11 people are all right by me," she says. Currently she's fiddling with a larger shirt, working a patch over a hole in the armpit. "As long as everyone is happy, I'm happy."

"Even though we're so close to the fence?" I ask. We've moved a bit closer with the storm warnings.

Her face darkens slightly. "This isn't my camp, Madge. I'm in no position to question how it's run." Solemnly I nod, and Hazelle sighs. "I don't like it. I also don't like Gale running back into a District at the first chance he gets, but if it's what needs to happen..." she trails off. "It's confusing."

"It is," I agree. I stoop down next to her and study the shirt she's mending before noticing that it's Gale's. I instantly realize that I'm not ready to talk about this. I don't know if I can do it. My voice is shaking as I ask, "What about the whole plan to go towards the Justice Hall?" This subject change will work. It has to. "Crazy, right?"

Hazelle thinks on this for a moment. "There were always stories about super storms," she tells me. "They started off like this," her head tips upwards, "gray, and just kept going until it was black. They mostly stayed in other Districts. We thought they were rumors until one managed to hit 12 when I was younger." Hazelle shakes her head. "If they say it's going to be bad we'll need to get to a secure building. We wouldn't survive out here."

She fiddles with Gale's shirt a bit more before finally looking back at me. "I guess," I croak.

"You'll be okay, Madge. The guys running this camp will make sure we're safe." She reaches over and squeezes my knee, just like Proja had squeezed my shoulder. "Gale wouldn't let anything happen to you." I try my dammed hardest to remain unfazed by her comment but she clearly notices something different in me. "Madge?"

I try to write it off. "It's not me that I'm worried about." And this is the truth. I'm worried about everyone else. But I still need this subject change. Hazelle lifts an eyebrow. She knows something is wrong. "I just want to be safe."

"You are," she says proudly. "And you will be. We _all_ will be. But I know that's not what's bothering you."

"I told Gale I love him," I suddenly squeak. At once my head is in my hands, blocking her and keeping her away and keeping myself locked in. "And I didn't mean to and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to _do."_

Hazelle's hand is still on my knee. After a long time she squeezes again, only very lightly. "Madge, honey," she says quietly. "Look at me." Hesitantly I allow her to break down my wall. I lower my hands. I cast my gaze in her direction. "It's okay."

Tears prickle in my eyes and my chin quivers no matter how tightly my jaw is locked. "No it isn't. H-he ran away when I said it and n-now he won't talk to me and I don't e-even know if I _meant_ it."

"Of course you meant it," she whispers. Hazelle's eyes are wide and understanding. Her smile is faint but still very bright. "You wouldn't have said it if you didn't. It caught even _you_ off guard. That's how you know that it's real."

"But that doesn't make sense," I cry. "We're barely, we... we aren't even—"

"Emotions run high at the end of the world sweetie," she tells me. "We don't have time to pretend to be other people. We're only ourselves, and that's it. You know him for who he is, and he knows you for who you are too." My shoulders lift in protest but she's too quick. "It's okay to love him."

"I feel like I've ruined e-everything," I whimper. Hazelle tugs me closer into an awkward sitting hug. She rests my head on her shoulder and strokes my hair. "Gale makes me feel safe. So safe all the time and I don't know why out of everyone he chose me and**—**"

I want to say more but suddenly Haymitch is in front of us, his eyes wide and terrified. "We have to go," he says sternly. As if on cue thunder rumbles. And it isn't in the distance. "We have to go now."

I don't have the option to resist.

* * *

_A/N: Hello! I'm still at camp but they have an office house and I've been writing in journals so when I have the time I can type it up. Sorry for any grammatical errors, there's no Word on this computer I've just been writing on FFs writing system. I will try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can, but like I said I'm still at camp! Which is lovely by the way. I hope you like the chapter. Also! The storm I'm writing about is obviously a bit more intense than our modern day storms. I like to pretend that global warming and all that jazz took a turn for the worst in good ole Panem.  
_


	18. Lightning

"The rain will keep them downed!" Haymitch yells at us. All I can focus on is throwing one foot down in front of the other. Posy clings to my side and Hazelle carries Vick. "They won't be able to smell us! If they know we're there though they'll still lunge!"

"Shouting will probably give them a hint!" I scream back at him.

The fence is a hundred feet away. Then fifty. Then ten. Before I know it we're being forced back into a District. A District that is most likely a thousand times worse than us. I can hear Taftan in the back of my head _screaming_ at me not to go. His voice in my thoughts makes me shaky and hesitant.

Rain is already pelting at our faces and making the ground a bit more slippery. One mistake could mean death. One mistake _will_ result in death. Posy tightens her hold on me and buries her face in my shoulder.

Left foot. Right foot. I can hear them. I can smell them.

Posy shakes and whines and I breathe, in and out again and again. Follow Haymitch. Hope that Hazelle is following me. And that the others are following her.

Hazelle shrieks, "Madge!"

I look up just in time to notice one lunging toward me. Posy can't see but she whines again. I duck out of the way and slip sideways before quickly regaining my footing. I can hear my heart beating in my ears as steady as the rain. My veins are shaking in my fingers and I squeeze Posy closer. I want to comfort her. Reassure her somehow. I just can't, I can't.

The wind picks up and makes us all stumble. Someone near the end of the line screams but I can't tell who so I run and I run and I keep running. I weave through the trees of an obvious orchard and narrowly avoid those who come at me. Focus on Haymitch. That's all I can do.

Left. Right. Left. Right. In. Out. One mistake will be death. One mistake will mean becoming victim to one of them. _Almost there_, Taftan tells me. _You can make it_.

My calves are screaming at me to stop and give up but I can't do that. I have to make it on, I have to make it because that's what Taftan wants. I let out a shaky breath and realize that my throat is on fire. Rain continues to pelt my face making everything harder to see. My hair sticks to my forehead in damp clumps. Thunder rumbles off in the distance at a rapid rate.

Haymitch makes a sharp turn and I follow. If I weren't so entranced in being directly behind him I would've paused. I would've been taken.

Because the dead that linger here are overwhelming.

They're in the streets. In the windows of the houses. In the fields that we just ran through. Moving and groaning and reaching out for us. The rain has not downed them as much as I think Haymitch hoped. He ducks down another alley and curses under his breath, and again Posy whimpers.

I thought the mass of survivors from District 11 was insane, but looking at how many people are still in their District I know I was wrong. Only a fraction of people got out. A fraction smaller than ours, it seems.

Another turn. Another. The rain picks up and I can't see and it's dark and the lightning in the sky is much too close and much too strong. Haymitch weaves us through the dead and I pray I don't become one.

Posy is heavier now and I'm much more tired. My eyes are drooping and my body is aching and my ankles aren't made for this and I want to stop. I want to stop right now. I want them to win.

But then we're at a house and Haymitch is throwing open the door and motioning me inside and the others behind us as well but I can't think or see and I walk to the closest couch and collapse, Posy still in my arms. She sniffles and looks up from where she's been hiding.

Her eyes are pinker than a sunset and her cheeks are awfully pale. "Are we safe?" she whispers.

I force myself to nod. Posy is the only important thing at this moment. The fact that she and I are both safe. The couch is so comfortable and my body is so weak I want to dissolve into pieces. She leaps toward me again and hugs me tighter than I ever thought possible.

And finally, I can breathe. I let my eyes drift shut as she sobs against me and I hold her close and breathe until my heartbeat is steady again.

Only when Hazelle comes, just as soaked as me and Posy, does the little girl let go. Vick hugs me in place of his sister and I try my hardest to wipe the rain from his forehead. He's not crying like Posy but he's shaking just as much.

My eyes dart around for Gale, desperately wondering where he is and not being able to see anyone's face in the dark and just having to make my best guesses. Vick shivers again, it's entirely too cold, and I focus back on him. Of course Gale is safe. Gale is always safe.

I go to ask Vick if he's okay even though I already know the answer to that, but before I can the door slams shut.

"The hell was that?" Proja's voice is shouting. Haymitch rushes over to throw his hand over his mouth but Proja's too quick, ducking out of the way and giving the old Victor a menacing look. "What the _fuck_, Haymitch!"

I ease Vick from my lap and go to stand and calm him. "Proja—"

"Don't give me that," he snaps. He turns back to Haymitch and charges toward him. "You led us away from the rest of the group!" His eyes scan and he shakes his head. "We're not even all _here_, Haymitch! Because of a turn we made we ended up losing... we were _all_ supposed to go to the Justice Hall and now—"

"They don't trust us!" Haymitch cuts him off. "I'd rather lose three of us than all of us!" The room falls silent, nothing but the consistent thunder and pitter-patter of the rain. Three? We lost _three more_? Gale? "It was a decision I made with Chaff and Seeder," he adds, his voice a bit more gentle yet still very raw. "Katniss and Peeta supported the decision."

Everyone's eyes instantly turn to the two who are still dripping in the corner. Katniss stares at the ground but Peeta nods surely. "Everyone is stronger in numbers. If we want them to trust us then this is what we have to do."

Proja snarls and forces himself out of the room, muttering something about how unsafe this is and how we're all going to get killed because of such a shit decision.

"There's hardly twenty of us," I whisper. The room turns to me. "And _they_ don't trust _us_?" If I was able to project anger at this point I would, but I'm so exhausted I just come off confused. "We could be the only people left in the country and they'd rather pull apart than come together. And now we lost three more."

Before anyone can stop me from walking away I chase after Proja, down a dark corridor into a larger room. When I reach him I find him in a dusty kitchen, a place that hasn't been tended to in months. I wonder what the date is. He sits on a stool with his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands.

"The walls are strong," he croaks, "just maybe not enough. We should be in the Justice Hall with the rest of them." He can't see me nod but I do, and then I take the seat next to him. Proja lets out a deep breath of air before looking up at me, shaking his head forlornly. "How are you doing?" he manages to ask.

"Just great," I return in the same tone. "Exhausted and aching and entirely too hungry." I leave out feeling emotionally empty as well. I refuse to accept that Gale is one of the people we lost, because I'm still hurting too much from his lack of communication that I can't deal with it.

His eyes look up and scan around the house. "I meant about the house," Proja says. "Everyone's exhausted and aching and entirely too hungry but**—**"

"It was a necessary move," I cut him off, and as if on cue the rain picks up. "Out there we'd be drenched and cold and sick and—"

"Madge," Proja narrows his eyes. He shifts toward me and rests his hand on my shoulder. "You do know where we are, don't you?" I narrow my eyes as well, confused as to what he's getting at.

But then the lightning strikes, and the room lights up. And as the thunder rumbles off in the distance I realize where I'm sitting. A seat exactly like the one where I used to live. We're in the mayor's house.

* * *

After finding out that Gale has been assigned to lead most of the D11 survivors to the Justice Hall I can breathe again. I try to stay where I am but at once I'm wandering around the building. It makes sense. Move us to the mayor's house, the building with a fence around it that will be harder to break through. A large area that can house our entire group easily. A place that's very structurally sound.

But it... it's wrong.

It's exactly like my house. The bedrooms in the same place and the fridge the same model and the wooden floorboards beneath my feet. Everything is the same.

Gale still isn't with the group either. He's not downstairs with his family or conspiring with Katniss or staring out the window at the mobs that breeze by the house, but transporting people to the Justice Hall we weren't allowed into. So I have to distract myself.

I pace up the stairs when no one is looking and go to hide in my old room. Of course it isn't mine, it's the child of the mayor from District 11, but everything is generally the same. I ease into the room and wince when the boards creak. Mine did too.

Upon entering the room and realizing that it's _not_ mine, that even in a place so similar I can't find solace, my eyes well up immediately. I barely make it to the disheveled bed in the center of the room before I start crying, tears streaming down my face and sobs crawling up my throat.

This bed is not mine. This home is not mine. My body aches and screams for comfort and this mattress is not mine and my family did not ever _once_ live here. I bury my face into the pillows that belonged to someone else and cry.

I cry for my mother and I cry for my father and for Loaf and for Taftan and for Mrs. Everdeen and for everyone who has ever fallen and not gotten up. I cry for myself. I cry for this world, for our future. Where will we go from here? What is left for us? Will we all eventually shrivel up? Make nothing of ourselves? And then what? Is there a heaven, a hell? Will we all be condemned for the faults that have been cast upon humanity?

"Madge."

I sit up at once, rolling to face the sound of the voice in the door. I wipe at my face with my still damp shirt and find Gale's silhouette in the door frame.

He's safe.

His face floods with relief immediately and he rushes over to me. Almost as though I'm shocked to see him I leap to my feet and meet him half way, expecting him to greet me in some sort of way. He scans me once or twice, his eyes glancing over me from head to toe until he's satisfied, but with just one glance at him I'm sated.

"You're okay," he rasps. Never a question, yet still in need of an answer.

"I'm okay," I nod. As okay as I can be.

Again he's relieved, but only for a moment. There's a hesitation to his movement before he eventually pulls me into his arms. We sigh together. Me at his touch, him at my safety. Early today (was it only today?) I had thought we'd never be like this again. My slip of tongue almost having ruined it all. But like this I mold perfectly to him. His hold is tight around me.

I want to stay like this forever, his clothing still wet and clinging to me as tight as he is. This can be our future. Nothing but comfort and nothing but safety. No more thoughts about the past or the losses that we have and continue to have, but this. Just this.

Too soon Gale releases his grip and shatters my vision of solitude, carefully stepping away from me but still in arms reach.

He still looks hesitant. Unsure. He glances around the room and shifts uneasily. He knows that something is wrong. "Are you**—**"

"I'm fine," I cut him off immediately. This house is not mine. I'm okay. He nods one and steps backwards. Thunder rattles around us and out of instinct I go towards him, only to find him uncomfortably backing away. My cheeks heat up and I glance toward the ground. "Gale... about what I said..."

I want him to say something, but I know that he won't. He waits for me to continue with the rain echoing through the room. I chew on my bottom lip and keep my eyes downcast. "I meant it," I finally say. After the admission of truth I expect to feel relieved, but the fear is tangible and coils around my heart. I know he doesn't agree. "I meant when I said that I love you and I'm not sorry I said it."

It's silent again between the two of us.

"I know," he murmurs. "That's why I couldn't be around you." My heart is in my throat as he speaks. I know he doesn't love me. Why should he? Gale shared his true feelings and it took me weeks to properly respond. "I care about you," he says gently. "I just—this isn't the right time to talk about this."

"Isn't the right time?" I repeat. I'm entirely dumbfounded. "And when exactly is the '_right time_?'" Before Gale can answer I'm talking again. "There might not be _any_ time _ever again!_ This could be the only time that—"

"Stop it," he growls. Gale charges toward me, his hands firm on my shoulders. "Don't you ever talk like that again. There's _plenty _of time! And there always will be!"

His grip is fierce and it makes me feel so small. "You don't know that," I whisper. "This could be it."

"Madge," he hisses.

"Maybe not the end for you," I continue weakly. My eyes are starting to water. "But I'm not as strong as you or as smart so if anything happens to me I-I need you to know—"

Gale suddenly shouts, "Nothing is going to happen to you!" His hands are still on my shoulders and he keeps trying to meet my gaze but I can't, I just _can't._ "Nothing's going to happen to you," he repeats gently. "You're a lot stronger _and_ smarter than you think you are. You made it this far, right?"

He lifts one of his hands to my face, his fingers brush carefully down my cheek. Thunder rattles the house after a bright flash of lightning and I'm forced to remember where we are, and how I might have made it this far but my family hasn't.

"I'm going to fall eventually," I tell him. My voice is nothing but hollow. "And they'll get me like they get everyone else."

"I won't let them," Gale says. He's so sure, _so sure_ that even now I can see how bright his eyes are. "I won't let anything get you. If anything happens to you it'd be because I couldn't—"

"Keep me safe?" I cut him off. Gale pauses. He releases his hold on me in every way. "You can't keep me safe forever." Not when he has Posy and his mother and Vick and Rory. I'm not his top priority and I don't have the right to be. "And when you're off doing... doing whatever it is that you—" I exhale deeply and swallow my tears. "I won't last in this world."

"Then neither will I," he growls. "Because I can't do it without you."

We stare at each other. His eyes bright and gray, terrified and locked with mine. His dark eyebrows are knitted and his mouth is slightly parted. He's searching for the words to say, I can see it.

"Madge," he starts. "If I love you then I'll lose you."

"Gale—"

"Would you just _listen_ to me?" he snaps. Gale shakes his head and drags one of his hands through his hair. "If I admit... if I tell you exactly how much you mean to me then you will be taken from me. I lose _everyone_ and I can't—" he cuts himself off and continues to shake his head, stepping backwards again. "I just can't."

"That doesn't make sense," I croak. He won't look at me now. "Anyone can be taken at any time. You. Me. _Anyone_. Dammit, Gale! We lost three people _today_!"

"Stop."

"And not telling me how you feel isn't going to stop anything from happening!"

"_Stop it._"

"Would you rather me die without ever knowing if I was anything more to you than just—"

Before I can even finish speaking he charges toward me, his hands on either side of my face and pulling me toward him. Gale's lips crash against mine and we stumble backwards. The back of my legs collide with the bed behind me and I fall onto the mattress, my hands going up to wrap around him in hopes to keep his body close to mine.

Gale eases over me, carrying the pair of us back onto the bed. "You're not going to die," he whispers. Gale kisses the corner of my mouth as he lies me down. "I won't let you."

"Gale—"

"I won't let you," he repeats sternly. Again his lips are on mine, gentle yet somehow strong. Cautious and steady. He is my anchor. "I'm going to keep you safe," he whispers.

And maybe he doesn't tell me he loves me, but when the lightning strikes again and instantly he's cradling me in his arms, I know that he does. Gale's lips press against my forehead and my cheeks and my nose and over and over again he promises me that we're going to make it out of this. And I think I might believe him.

* * *

_A/N: Another lag in update but camp is almost over! I know this chapter is kind of confusing, but that's the point. The group is mostly left in the dark as the leaders make the decisions. I know I still need to work on my storytelling a bit but if you have any questions let me know. Gale's reaction thoughts? Other side note: there's a poll on my blog! Go vote please! I'll be back early August with some more for you all. _


	19. Falling Down

My fingers lazily trace over the markings on Gale's back. I haven't gotten to see them before, not like this. The faded purple lines that were once bright red, forced upon him with a whip in the middle of the day. The scars zigzag over his skin, sharp and unforgiving. A reminder of a life long before the one we live now.

Without even a word Gale rolls around to face me and my hand drops from his back. His chest is bare and out of instinct I reach forward to touch his skin. His eyebrows are knitted but he sighs at my touch, dropping down and quickly pressing his lips against mine. His hand finds my hip and he tugs me closer, running his fingers over my pale sides.

District 11 is still storming, but Gale and I aren't.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," I whisper. If I close my eyes hard enough I can pretend like I'm back home. Like Gale has snuck through my window and my father isn't any the wiser. That in the morning he'll have to leave, return to his home in the Seam so he can get ready for a day in mines. "Just like this."

"Me too," he murmurs. His voice is sad, and why shouldn't it be? Wishes and pretending, none of it is worth it anymore. "Madge," Gale lets his eyes drift shut. Again he pulls me closer. "I need you to promise me something." He opens his eyes and finds my gaze at once. "Can you do that?"

"Of course I can," I nod. Anything. I'll promise him anything. "What is it?"

Gale hesitates, but eventually pulls my body against his even more. The way he holds me has my face against his chest. "If anything happens to me, I need you to… to…" he shakes his head and wraps both of his arms around me. "Dammit, I don't even know what I want to say." He lets out a deep breath. "I need you to stay strong. To keep _going_."

I pull back a bit to look at him. He can't _possibly_ ask this from me. "Gale—"

"You said you would promise me," he rasps. His eyes are dark. He's afraid, and I can feel it. "Please, Madge." And now, I hesitate. When's the last time Gale's ever asked anything from me? He's selfless. But can I do that? If Gale were to be ripped from this world, would I be able to push through it? "I need to know that you would." His lips ghost over mine in a last attempt. "_Please_."

"I would try," I finally answer. My voice is weak. I can't promise him that I would make it, but I would try. For him. "Would you? If anything happened to me?" His head tips forward, but it's so reluctant I don't know if I believe him. "Gale."

"I'd try, too," he breathes. There's a silence between the two of us. I think we're both aware that without each other we might not make it very far. We both know, no matter how badly we want the other to carry on, we can't admit to being successful at it. We can't make this promise.

We fall asleep entwined with one another.

* * *

When I wake the bed is still warm. Gale's standing by the mattress pulling his clothes back on, and when he notices I'm awake he glances over his shoulder and flashes a quick smile. His hair is a mess, his eyes are bright and gray.

The sun is shining.

"The storm is over?" I ask. My voice is scratchy. I need something to drink. I can't remember the last time I ate something, the last time I didn't feel some form of exhaustion.

Gale smiles again as I stretch, and then he reaches down to pick up my clothing. As he tosses them to me he nods and says, "I think so, yeah. Going to go talk to Haymitch and Proja, figure some things out." I rub at my eyes and stretch again, sighing in relief when my back pops. Gale rests on the edge of the mattress and stretches his hand out, resting it overtop the blanket where my ankle is. "Sleep alright?" I collapse backwards against the mattress again and make some sort of noise of confirmation. Gale chuckles before saying, "Me too."

I haven't slept like that in forever, it seems. Whether it be the fact that I was on a real mattress or maybe because it was with Gale, but everything feels blissful.

"I don't want to leave," I admit quietly.

Now that the storm is over we'll have to go back. Go back to trekking through the wilderness. Go back to constant lookout for the freaks that follow us. Go back on our journey to the Capitol. No more curling up next to Gale with a mattress below us with a comforter to keep us warm. No more walls or houses or sense of security.

He rubs where my ankle is and sighs. "We can't stay here forever." And I know that he's right. With another quick squeeze Gale stands and tips his head at me, walking out the door swiftly and letting it click shut behind him.

* * *

By the time I finally make it back downstairs everyone is in a panic. The sight of my group rushing around with their hair on ends and their eyes wide immediately throws me off kilter. I pause on the staircase and watch them scrambling to get their things together, to shove everything they have into tiny backpacks.

Proja is in front of me at once. "Are you packed?" he asks me. "We've got to go. We've got to go, _now_."

"I—"

"It's like the fucking storm woke them up," he grunts. Proja shuffles around the things in his backpack until they're situated the way he wants them. His hair is dangling in his eyes and he blows it out of the way with a huff. "They're like gnats for crying out loud. Go away when it rains and when it stops they're all over the damn place."

"What do you mean?"

"Those—those freaks!" Proja gestures to a window and shakes his head. "Get your stuff, Madge. We don't have much time."

Only when he paces away from me do I really understand the situation that we're in. They're pressed up against the window, they're right up against the door. My heart starts pounding in my chest. They know we're here, they know we're hiding. I step toward the open view and their sounds wash over me in a panic. Grunting and moaning and crying. With the storm their scent has been stirred. Rotted flesh is pungent, my stomach twists in nausea.

They're here. They want me. They want all of us.

* * *

"Katniss you can't." Prim's voice is shaking as she pulls on her older sister's shirt, desperately trying to pull her away from the door. "It's too risky, they'll get you!"

"We don't have any other choice," Katniss says sternly. She is to pave a way for us. Fire until we can run through. Lead us out. "If I don't do this then we're dead."

Prim chokes back a sob and yells, "We're dead anyway!" Rory steps forward immediately to her aid, reaching down and grabbing Prim's hand. Prim sniffles a few times before meeting Katniss's gaze, and eventually she must understand that this is all we've got. This is the only option we have. It had been debated climbing out the window, or maybe distracting them out the front, there are just too many of them. Prim whimpers in defeat and rushes forward, squeezing her sister with all she's got. "I love you, Katniss," Prim whispers.

"Love you too, little duck." Katniss presses a kiss to her sister's forehead. "See you soon." She tips her head at Rory who then pulls Prim away, despite the obvious amount of force it takes.

Katniss turns to the rest of us. The fear is evident in her eyes. Was it just hours ago I was snuggling with Gale in a bedroom upstairs? Just hours ago we were terrified of the storm and just the storm. Why must this be thrust upon us as well? Katniss lets out a deep breath. We never get a break. She and Peeta lock eyes, and though nothing is said I know he's going with her. Gale reaches over and grabs my hand. He's going as well. Leading the way up in front. Making sure we can get out.

Katniss will shoot. Peeta will use his knife. Gale will do anything he can.

"We can do this," Haymitch says. The room is entirely too still. There are hardly any of us left. "We'll be fine." His voice is rough, his motions are stiff.

It's now or never. Gale glances at me, a certain fear is glistening in his gaze. The conversation we had earlier is bubbling up inside me and I try my hardest to swallow it down. Is this the moment in which I have to decide if I can carry on without Gale? Will this be the moment if he has to decide if he can go on without me? No. I refuse to think so.

Peeta wraps his hand around the handle to the back door. I brace myself in line. The door swings open.

Immediately they're lunging at us. Arrow after arrow, swing after swing. It takes a few minutes before we can even get out the door. With our scent in the air the freaks are more alert, sniffing in our direction, stretching their needy rotting fingers out for us. We wait in the house until Haymitch gives us the all clear, and then we run.

I swing Posy up and into my grip again like before. I'm not strong enough to carry Vick and I hardly think Hazelle is, but this is how it's worked out again. The little girl buries herself into me and begins to count. She counts quietly and messes up numerous times, but she's distracted and I'm grateful. Hazelle and Vick are behind us, just like before. We're a unit and we're going to make it out of this.

I follow the person in front of me and keep my head down. I stare at their boots as they trudge down the back porch and make a sharp left. I follow them out the gate. Almost as though the freaks are revived they're much faster than before. My body is weak, my lungs are frail and my bones are fragile. They're never ending. They never run out of energy, they never get tired. I don't know if I can make it this time.

I dodge one of them, and then two. By the third I'm seeing stars and my vision is spinning. Katniss is ahead of us shouting about arrows. Gale's grunt echoes through the air. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Four, five. I'm counting alongside Posy. The ground is covered in mud, my feet are unstable.

Someone slips. Their voice is raw and desperate. Someone screams. Posy screams into my chest. I jerk my head backwards to see who's on the ground but it's too late, too late. They scream and scream and Posy cries and I will myself on and on and on I promised Gale I would try. He hasn't fallen but he might. I haven't fallen and _I can't_.

Left. Right. Left. Right. In. Out. Left. Right. Breathe, march. Carry on. Carry on.

Another lunge, a close attempt. Posy's body is shaking and my lungs are on fire. The path that's being paved for us is breaking up. The path that we run through is not steady.

"Ow!" I screech. Posy nearly slips from my grasp as my hair is forcefully tugged on. Backwards. Backwards. Join them. No pain. No fear. Endless energy. Live forever. I yank my head forward and cry out as a chunk of my hair is torn from my head. My balance is off and the ground is muddy, muddy. I slip forward, cradling Posy's head as my elbows collide with the ground. Agony ripples through my arms as I struggle to stand again. Stand again, _I must stand again!_

Another one is coming for me. "_Madge_!" Someone ahead of us is shouting for me. My feet continue to slide out from below. "Madge, _get up_!" Posy tries to help, the world spins sideways. When was the last time I had something to eat? Everything is blurry, everything hurts. My legs, my arms, my head, my lungs. Join them, live forever.

The sound of Posy's cry brings me back. I can't join them. _I won't join them_. With a burst of adrenaline I force myself up. First my knees, then my feet. "You're b-bleeding," Posy whimpers into me. "Madge, please go." My body shakes as I look for our group. Where've they gone?

"_MADGE!" _

Spinning, spinning, spinning… my feet carry me forward but my body is giving out. I make it a few hundred more feet before the world turns dark.

* * *

_A/N: Shorter chapter but necessary for the next one. I'm home! I'm leaving it up to individual interpretation of how Gale and Madge's night went. I love you all._


	20. Haircuts

I wake at the strangest times, only to find myself drifting back into the darkness.

There are hands on me, rough hands that may or may not belong. Lots of screaming, only it's muffled and I can't hear what they're saying.

And then I'm in the air cradled against someone's chest. Their body is shaking, I'm pretty sure. Fingers curling through my hair. Their voice is a steady lull, a quiet murmur of something soothing I can't make out. I can feel my ribs. I can see stars.

When I'm conscious again I'm no longer being carried. My head is propped up on something hard, maybe a rock of sorts or a lumpy backpack. Someone's squeezing my hand, someone small. A child, I think. Squeezing with all they've got. Crying. Praying? I force my eyes to open but they can't, and then something is being forced into my mouth. A bottle. Water. I choke back the liquid and cough until I can breathe again before sleep beckons for me again.

Something on my body is stinging the next time I'm aware. My ankles, and then my wrists, and then a patch on my head. "It's going to hurt a little," Prim's voice is in my ear. It starts small, it starts _little_, but eventually turns into a burning sensation that ripples through my entire body.

"You're hurting her!" someone shouts. Someone male. "_Stop it!_"

"If I don't do this then her wounds will get infected!" Prim yells back. I've never heard her yell before, not like this. "I'm not willing to risk that!"

Everything is quiet as my body tenses in pain. A moan crawls up my throat no matter how hard I try to repress it. When it's silent again I can feel people shift. "Was she bitten?" The question is heavy in the air, the person who asks does so with a shaking voice.

"I don't know," Prim finally answers.

* * *

When I wake, and I mean _really _wake, the world is quiet. Someone's rubbing their thumb over my palm slowly, and every few seconds they'll let out a deep breath of air. I shift slightly and they leap to attention, squeezing my entire hand.

"Madge?"

Gale.

I peel my eyes open carefully, rolling on my side to face him. I blink once, twice, three times before his image is fully into view. It's dark outside, but still light enough to see. Dusk, I'm pretty sure. Even in this lighting I can see his eyes are rimmed with red. His face is paler than normal, his eyes sunken into his skull a bit, only to be outlined even more by the dark bags that hang underneath. But he smiles, and my God if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"What happened?" I croak.

Before he even answers me he's thrusting a bottle of water in my direction. It takes a bit of effort but Gale helps me lift it to my mouth, and when I finally get a taste of water it's as though new life is restored unto me. In seconds the bottle is empty and I desperately want another, but Gale doesn't offer so I'm not going to ask.

"What do you remember?" he asks me. His voice is soft, that of someone who's given up. "Anything?"

"I… everything went black," I tell him. I go to sit up but he makes sure that I don't move from how I'm lying. "We were running from the house in District 11. Someone behind me fell." Gale flinches but nods. "One of those freaks got a hold of my hair and I fell too." Still, he nods. His face is solemn. "I got up for a little bit but then…" I trail off, because I remember exactly what happened. I fell. And someone screamed. And everything was black. "Was I bitten?" I ask. Gale stares at me for a very long time, his face entirely unreadable.

"We don't know," he finally answers. His hand stretches for mine again. "You don't have a fever," he says weakly. "And we couldn't find a bite. Just some marks from falling but we don't…" he trails off and closes his eyes, shaking his head. "They want to keep you under watch as long as they're unsure."

"How long has it been?"

"'Bout a week," he answers. His mouth quirks just a little bit. "You'd ask that every time you woke up."

"I don't remember waking up," I tell him.

"I didn't think you would." He smile falls a little. "You would eat a little, get some food in your system before passing out again. Sometimes I didn't think you'd wake up. Or if you did…" Gale stretches forward and presses the back of his hand to my forehead. "Nothing," he whispers. "Not even a little warm." I let out a shaky breath and squeeze my eyes shut. "Think you'll stay awake this time?" he asks me.

"I want to." Gale smiles again, only slightly, before reaching back and grabbing something for me to eat. As he hands it over my mind begins to race with questions. "How'd I get out?" I ask. "Is Posy—"

"She's okay," Gale nods. "You fell on top of her. She couldn't breathe for a bit but was protected from them. Still a little shaken. She'll be happy you're up." I force a bit of a smile as I take my first bite of food. It takes a minute to chew it all but eventually I can swallow, and with the food in my body I feel stronger already. "Do you feel okay?"

After swallowing I say, "Everything hurts." My fingers and toes, my head and my calves. Everything. But I don't feel _sick_. Gale reaches forward, above my face, and runs his fingers on a spot on the back of my head. I flinch at the contact and he immediately pulls away, his face filled with guilt. It's clear that I'm missing a chunk of my hair. That my scalp is now visible. "You never told me how I got out."

"Proja," he replies. "He was in front of you. Turned back at just the right time." I know that I will never get the details from Gale. Perhaps that day has gotten foggy or maybe it's too painful to retell, but I _know_ he will never tell me exactly what happened.

"Did we lose anyone else?" Gale swallows, the sound loud and deafening, and tips his head forward. At once his eyes are pulled away from me, in the sky as he wills himself not to tear up. I run through the list of people in my mind. We've lost people before and Gale has been fine. Who could've been taken? Or is he just so worked up over maybe losing me? "Gale." He tips his head to the side, he can't even _answer_ me. "I think that I—"

I'm cut off immediately by a small figure strolling up. The sight of Vick has startled me into silence, and I watch as he methodically moves over to his brother. Gale turns his head to see Vick and lets out a shaky breath. "What's up, bud?" he whispers. Vick's eyes are wide and unseeing. He stares at me for a very long time before turning back to Gale, tugging on his brother's shirt. "Bed time?" Gale asks. Vick doesn't nod or shake his head, just pulls on Gale's shirt again. "Alright, I'll be right there." Vick doesn't leave though, he just continues to stare. Gale lets out a shaky sigh and looks toward the sky again. "I've got to talk to Madge right now, bud," Gale says. He tilts his head toward me but doesn't look for long. "You wanna say something to her? She's awake now."

Vick glances back toward me. Again, he doesn't nod or shake his head, he just stares. His gray eyes are as wide as a full moon, his stance is cowering. He blinks a few times before walking away from the both of us.

Gale runs his hand through his hair and turns back to me, yet still won't look. "Gale," I whisper. He jerks his head sideways. "Who did we lose?"

He stands up at once and takes a step away. "I've got to put the kids to bed," he chokes. His voice is rough as he backs up. "I'll be back." Gale's gone before I can even respond.

* * *

I learn things piece by piece the next day.

We're somewhere between District 10 and District 4. The area is mostly clear so it doesn't take us long to travel. Gale has been carrying me the entirety of the way. We never met back up with our hosts from District 11, we have no idea what's happened to them.

Hazelle Hawthorne is dead.

Vick hasn't spoken since. He watched her fall. He watched his own mother ripped apart piece by piece. Rory at the tail end of the line managed to save his brother as the freaks were distracted with the woman on the ground.

Hazelle is dead. She is no long breathing. She is no longer thinking. She is no longer here. She is dead. She's not coming back.

The second Posy finds out I'm awake she latches herself to me. She doesn't talk very much either, but she won't let me go. "I was going to make you a flower crown," Posy tells me. Her voice is soft and weak, yet hearing it instills me with new hope. "But it's hard to find flowers out here." Winter is coming. It's getting colder. I squeeze Posy against me and breathe her in. She hugs me back just as tightly and sniffles. She is so strong.

Prim makes me walk back and forth a few times to see if I'm strong enough to move on my own. She's not her mother but I trust her opinion just as much. She says we should be good to leave in the morning.

Everything is numb. How can Hazelle be dead? She was the liveliest person I knew. The most _sure_ that things would be okay, that we would make it out of this. And now she's gone? The thought renders me incapable of breathing. Incapable of _anything_.

Gale puts Vick and Posy to sleep before searching for me. His movements are slow, he's very hesitant. He lowers himself to the ground next to me by the fire. Most everyone is sleeping. Katniss and Peeta curled together, Proja and Delly.

"You should get some rest," Gale whispers. He tugs me over and rests his arm around my shoulder, pulling me toward him. "We're leaving in the morning again."

"I've spent a week sleeping," I murmur. I don't want to close my eyes again. What if I don't open them? "I'll be okay." Gale doesn't try to object anymore. He drops his head down and rests his forehead on my shoulder. "Gale," I whisper. "I am so sorry." He shakes his head as I turn into him. "I wish I could… I wish I could trade places with her."

"_God_, don't say that," he chokes. He reaches up, his hands cupping my cheeks. "There was a time in which I thought you both…" he trails off, shaking his head. I know he won't say it. "You were right," he finally rasps. "Anyone can be taken at any time." His mouth covers mine quickly, and the warmth he has filling me up at once. "I love you, Madge," he breathes. "You need to know that."

"I know," I say with a nod. "I love you, too."

Gale leans down to kiss me again, tugging me as close to him as he possibly can. Kiss after kiss until both of us are breathless. He pulls me into his arms and wraps me in his hold, his breath shaky. We stay like that for a very long time.

* * *

Despite our exhaustion, we carry on. Despite our hunger, we march forward. Despite our terror and guilt, we power through.

This is not a world in which we can break anymore. We have one goal and one goal only: make it to the Capitol. If there isn't a place there for us, if there's nothing but fear there as well, we'll start over. We'll find a place, somewhere, somehow. But for now, we carry on.

Day after day, week after week. Haymitch falls ill and catches a brutal cough, but he ignores it. Sae starts making our meals out of bark and grass, but we ignore it. Vick continues his silence, but we don't push him. Katniss is running out of arrows, but we pretend we're okay. Peeta's leg is acting up, but he keeps going. I haven't recovered 100% from when I was almost taken, but I don't have a choice but to walk.

One day I stumble and Proja catches me. He pulls me to stand and smiles at me, his gaze hazy. "Watch your step," he says, the same time I say, "Thank you." And then we laugh like it's our own little joke and we laugh like things are normal. But then Haymitch is coughing and the wind blows through the trees and we remember that things are not normal.

* * *

The day I get my hands on a pair of scissors I give myself a haircut. I take the little music box Gale gave me all those months ago and use the tiny mirror inside to help. I ignore the woman in the reflection, the face of a survivor with the grime on my cheeks and the alertness in my eyes, and study my hair and just my hair. The cuts are jagged and uneven but overall I think I do a fairly decent job. My hair has not fully grown back from when it was ripped out, but the deep red is now covered by a light golden blonde. I give myself a trim so short it's in line with my chin. Still able to be grabbed but not as easily.

Golden locks litter the forest floor around me. My hair, my long beautiful hair, gone. A fresh start, it's what we all need.

When I return to where we've set up camp, Gale crosses over to me immediately. His face is contorted in confusion as he reaches up, running his fingers through the short blonde strands that I have left.

"Will you cut mine?" he asks.

So just like that I spend the afternoon giving out haircuts. Short, short, short, a fresh start. Katniss keeps her braid and Haymitch insists his hair is fine the way it is, but nearly everyone else asks for a restoration of some sort. It takes me a few tries to get into a flow, but by the end I'm cutting hair like it's my job.

As we all lay down to sleep that night there is laughter in the air. Katniss running her hands through Peeta's short new do, Posy trying to braid Prim's hair despite its new shorter length. Gale kisses my temple and laces his hand with mine. "You look beautiful," he whispers.

I reach up and fluff the dark hair on the top of his head. "It's a little uneven," I murmur. Gale chuckles, _actually chuckles_, for the first time in a long time, before bending down and pressing his lips against mine. He brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear but it doesn't stay and falls right back into my face, and then he laughs again. It's the moments like this that I hold on to.

* * *

"Alright," Katniss starts. How many of us are left? We're a group now, no more secrets. Katniss and Peeta and Haymitch. Proja and Delly. Gale and Vick and Rory and Posy. Me. Prim and Greasy Sae. Twelve of us. She speaks to us all. "It's not much farther now until we reach the end of District 4, but on that same thought we're coming up to the mountains."

"If we want to go through the mountains," Peeta says, "we'll surely lose more of us." Everyone flinches at his bluntness, but there's no point in lying anymore. "The cold is not something we're prepared for, we wouldn't make it. Cliffs would be all over the place, dangers lurking in the woods. Hunters or not, we wouldn't get through with all of us."

"What's our other option?" Prim asks.

"Through District 10," he answers. Immediately there are protests, but only so many of us actually have a say in this decision. "It'll be the outskirts of the District," Peeta continues, "but it'll be in there. The chances of running into freaks would be worse. We just have to choose which of the two dangers we want to face."

We sit in silence for a while. At least, it feels like a while. I don't know if I can go back into a District. I don't think my brain _or_ body can take it.

Just as Haymitch opens his mouth to speak we hear a branch snap. Immediately on alert Katniss has an arrow pointed in the direction, Gale has leapt forward so me and the rest of his family are behind him. I pull Posy into my lap and Vick scoots right up to my side and grabs my arm.

Suddenly a loud voice calls out, "The only way you'll get over those mountains is by train." I tense at the voice because I know it. I've heard it many times. Katniss shifts slightly, her face riddled with confusion. A man emerges from the brush and stands tall, wiping his hands down the front of him. Katniss nearly drops her bow. "Thankfully I know a few that are still running."

"Finnick Odair," Peeta nearly gasps.

"The hell?" Haymitch shouts, leaping to his feet and running toward the man. The Victor. Another? Why is it that the Victors are the ones we always find? "What are you doing out here?"

"You're a lot closer to 4 than you are to 12, old man," Finnick says with a smile. Finnick Odair is alive. Finnick Odair is in front of us. "Been following you for about a day." Everyone, including all the men in our group, stare at him with wide eyes. "We're working on getting to the Capitol," Finnick tells us. Finnick Odair. "Tried holding out in 4 for as long as we could."

"We?" Peeta asks.

"Well I'm not going to get anywhere on my own, am I?" He shakes his bronze hair out of his face and graces us with another smile. "Of all the people surviving this wreck, who would've thought it'd be us?" The question is aimed at his fellow Victors, but I feel it inside me as well. How have I made it this far?

* * *

_A/N: Oh come on I had to bring Finnick into the mix. You bet your ass he'd survive the zombie apocalypse. As to people who haven't survived... sorry. Hope you're still enjoying the story. _


	21. Train Station

Finnick Odair is nothing short of a charmer.

I've met him before. Once when I was really little and he won the Games, and then a few more times when his tributes won and the Victory Tour passed through. It's strange to think that none of these things will happen again, at least I don't think so. No more Hunger Games. No more Victory Tours. No more dressing up for fake Capitol parties.

He speaks animatedly and captures all of our attentions, just like the old Finnick would, but there's something different in his eyes.

Katniss and Peeta were both different when they came back from the Hunger Games. Their eyes were darker, they had seen things they never wanted to, but this is different. Finnick is different. I guess we're all different.

"The power was running in 4 up until about two weeks ago," Finnick tells us. "It was easier to defend ourselves when we only had one way to protect. With our backs to the ocean we were golden." _Ocean_. I remember when Gale told me about the ocean. I wonder if we'll ever get to see. "After a while we figured out that no one was coming to help us."

"How do you know there are other trains still running?" Peeta asks. "If the power in District 4 is out what makes you think it's on anywhere else?"

"That's the thing," Finnick says, extending his hand and pointing toward Peeta. "The power is out in District 4, but the trains all run on a separate power unit."

"The Capitol's," Proja supplies.

"Exactly," Finnick nods. "If there's still power in the Capitol then the trains will still be able to run. The peacekeepers all got out of here somehow, didn't they? Besides, if we get to the station and we realize there aren't any trains or the doors won't open because there's no power, we know not to go to the Capitol."

"Why didn't you just check District 4's station?" Katniss asks. "Why go all the way to 10?"

"Zombies were too thick," he answers. Haymitch smirks at his fellow Victor's choice of words. _Zombies_. "Couldn't get through."

"How do you know 10 is any better?"

"I don't," Finnick shrugs. "Got to have some hope now, hm?"

* * *

Proja and a boy from District 4, a relative of a Victor who has passed, go scouting into District 10. Gale wants to go but knows that the kids won't be okay if he does, so he hangs back. Right now the children are entertaining themselves, Posy building a fairy house out of rocks and Vick staring at the clouds in the sky and Rory still trying to get Prim to kiss him.

I lower myself to the ground next to Gale and sigh, dropping my forehead against his arm. He reaches up so I fall unto his chest and twirls his fingers through the short length of my hair.

"I don't want to go in the district," I tell him. Gale lowers his hand from my hair and latches onto my hip, tugging me closer with one pull. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

"Me neither," he answers. I don't know which he agrees with, hopefully both, but I don't push him. "We're so close though," Gale whispers. "Can't you feel it?"

I nod my head forward, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling. I wonder when Gale changed his mind about going to the Capitol. I guess it's sort of like what Finnick said, we've got to have some hope. Especially after all Gale's been through, all he's lost.

"Sure," I lie. Gale smiles slightly and tilts his head down to face me. He looks tired. Dammit, we all look tired.

Speaking of tired, Posy lumbers up to Gale and I. Her eyes are drooping and she yawns heartily. "Can we go to sleep?" she asks. Gale looks toward his sister, then back toward me, and nods. "I'll get Vick," the little girl tells us, and then she stumbles back over to get her brother.

Gale stands up and extends his hand, pulling me up as well. With our fingers entwined we stroll over to where our sleeping things are and wait for Posy and Vick to join us. Before we can sit Gale pulls me into his arms, his grip tight around my back and his chin resting on my head. I snake my arms around his waist and hold tightly, resting against his chest. My body fits perfectly against his like this.

"I know you didn't ask for this responsibility," he whispers. "I'm sorry." I try to peek up at him but his hold is too strong. "Posy, and Vick… they're not _yours_. I know that. If you ever feel like… like it's too much—"

"I love them," I cut him off. My voice is muffled against his shirt but I know he's heard me. "I love them and I love you and I'll do anything to keep them safe." The Hawthorne's are my family now, there's nothing I wouldn't do to make sure they get out of this.

Gale's body shudders as he lets out a deep breath, and then he finally releases his grip. Before he can lean down and kiss me, Posy and Vick are both here. We lay down and instantly Posy curls up to me, and Vick curls up to Gale. When the little ones have their eyes closed I glance across at Gale. He smiles at me before letting his own eyes shut.

Yes, the Hawthorne's are my family.

* * *

Proja and the boy from 4, I learn his name is Carter, are back by the time we wake up. The path isn't clear, they say, but it isn't swamped either. We should be able to get through easily enough, we should be able to get through without losing anyone else.

God, I hope they're right.

This time instead of Katniss and Peeta and Gale up front, it's just Katniss and Finnick. Gale and Peeta take somewhere in the middle, and then another Victor from 4 and Haymitch take the back.

"This isn't a sprint," Peeta reminds us. "We don't have to get there as fast as we can. We want to be safe, we want all of us to get through this, and we want to do it before nightfall, but we don't have to run." Posy clings to my leg, she isn't being carried this time. Neither is Vick. Not a sprint, we can do this.

Up in front of me I watch Delly sneak Proja a kiss, and then I smile to myself. We're going to make it through this, I know it.

* * *

The walk is slow. There are plenty of freaks lumbering through the District but it isn't as though they're a giant mob. Very dispersed, very easy to take down. The stench of death is awful, I can't help but wonder if we'll ever get to a place that doesn't smell like rotted flesh. You think after all this time I would get used to the stench of death. It's just one of those things you can never be okay with.

The day is spent with everyone looking over their shoulders. No one stops to break, we just keep our steady march. And it's easy.

It's so easy, that when we actually encounter a problem we're not prepared.

The station is in view. It's crowded. Dead with tangled greasy hair and wide gaping mouths wait for us on the platform. Without any of us actually talking we pick up our pace. No, it hasn't been a sprint up to this point but it might have to become one. Katniss flings her remaining arrows and forms a path that we can all squeeze through. Finnick uses a trident to spear through their heads and shove them back. Dead, dead, dead.

I reach down and lift Posy into my arms and she instantly clings to me, burying her face into my neck.

We have a path, _we have a path_. Left foot, right foot, it's not that hard. We can do this. The platform is crowded but we have people to take care of that. We can do this.

A circle is formed with the defenseless on the inside and the fighters on the out. We work toward the train. They hiss at us, they growl and stretch and reach for us. Only now do I consider that maybe they don't want us to join them, maybe they want to join _us_.

A life of death, a life of nothing but hunger is not a life that I want to live. It's not a life, no matter what happens, that can overtake me. So maybe the dead aren't hungering for our bodies, maybe they want our souls. Maybe they want to live again.

The thought stops me cold.

If it wasn't for Delly behind me shoving me forward I would've been too stunned to move. We just don't _understand_ the dead. We don't know what they want, we don't know why they're so tragic.

"Let's go, Madge," Delly cries, tugging me forward.

"Got the door open!" I hear someone shout. "Move, move, move!"

There's a hole in our defenses. They're pushing through to us. They want our life and maybe they think they can get it through more death. More death, more death, more…

Proja screams, "_Delly!_"

And Delly screams, lifting her boot and thrusting it forward, knocking a few of the freaks over.

And then we're on the train and the door is being shut and Delly is dry sobbing and Proja is standing over her and we're all panting.

"Let me see it," he whispers. He tries to be quiet but he's so loud, he's the only one talking. Finnick and Katniss check the compartment and the surrounding ones for freaks. Proja pulls Delly's arm into his hand and shakes his head. "It's not so bad," he tells her. "It's not, it—"

"She was bitten," Peeta croaks.

"She's fine," Proja responds. I lower Posy to the ground before taking a step closer. "She's fine," he repeats. His gaze is locked on Delly who's eyes are filled with tears.

"We can't keep her here," Haymitch's voice booms.

"She's _fine!" _Proja screams. He stands up and spins away from her, sheathing his knife. "And I swear to _God_ if any of you take a step closer I'll kill you, I swear it."

"Proja," Delly whispers. The light through the windows illuminates her arm. Teeth marks. Red. It's most definitely a bite. "They're right."

"No," he shakes his head, lowering back down to her. "No, no, no, they're not right and they're not taking you from me."

"Proja—"

"_No,_" he whimpers. "I-I'll take you into another compartment. Okay?" The air is stiff and stale. Proja turns to face us and his face is pale. "I'll take her into another compartment away from all of us. She'll get better, she'll—" he cuts himself off and swallows a sob.

Without waiting for anyone to respond he bends down and scoops Delly into his arms, quickly carrying her down one of the hallways and into a different room. We hear a door click shut. The room is quiet again.

Peeta sinks to a chair defeated and drops his head into his hands. He rakes his fingers over his face and rubs at his eyes. "We weren't supposed to lose anyone," he whimpers. "We were supposed to make it here safe."

* * *

The train is fully stocked and loaded. Electricity. Running water. _Food_. There are enough rooms for all of us to have a bed.

There's a team of four, three people from District 4 and Haymitch, working on figuring out how to get the train to move forward, but they said it shouldn't take too long. There are manuals that have all the instructions in them, like a giftwrapped package just for us.

The air is somber and hardly anyone speaks. It's confliction between happiness at all we've found and been given on this train and terror and sadness for Delly. My eyes well up as though I want to cry but no tears fall. Am I capable of hurting anymore? One of my best friends has been bitten and all I can do is sit here.

"You're the mayor's daughter." I look up and find Finnick staring at me, his finger extending in my direction. "From District 12. Aren't you?"

"Yes," I nod. My voice is rough. Was it my fault Delly was bitten? She slowed to make sure I sped up. "You're a Victor, aren't you?"

"Funny," he chuckles. Finnick lowers himself down on the couch next to me. We're in the common room. Gale put the kids to bed but I don't think I can sleep. "I knew I recognized you. The short hair threw me off. Madge, right? Undersee?"

"Right."

Finnick smiles, proud of his realization and remembrance of my name, and eases onto the couch more. "I always think it's funny to see who makes it out of this mess alive, you know? Victors are an obvious one but a little girl from District 12." I narrow my eyes in his direction and he shrugs. "Just not what I'd expect, is all." There's a silence between us. "For a while it was believed that the Capitol removed all the mayors and their families from the Districts before all of this went down but now I guess that's been a lie."

"If that's true it didn't happen with my family," I say. If there's a chance for me to become hopeful it's now. Perhaps my father was taken to safety. Maybe I'll meet him in the Capitol. But this hope is false and I don't want to feed off of it. "If it weren't for the people I'm with I most certainly would be dead by this point."

"You have a reason to keep fighting," Finnick notes, tipping his head forward. "Good." He cocks his head toward the hallway that Proja ran down earlier and frowns. "I'm sorry about your friend. Both of them."

I lift an eyebrow and ask, "What do you mean?"

Finnick shrugs again, toying with the fabric of the couch. "The boy, Proja. When she dies it will ruin him." I think back to when Taftan was taken as well and my stomach is hollow. Proja is losing everyone. "He won't be the same."

"He'll pull through," I say. I'm not sure if I believe it or if I'm trying to convince myself of this. Proja is strong, he can make it through anything.

"Losing someone you love can be just as bad as being bitten," he says. "You turn numb."

It clicks. "You've lost someone you love."

"Haven't we all?" Finnick wonders. "Everyone thought she was mad, especially when she ran off into the woods on her own. When I found her…" he trails off. "She ran because she was bit. She didn't want to hurt anyone." He shakes his head again, "Made me swear to keep going. I've done so but been caught between the desperation of wanting to die myself and needing to appease her dying wish. In the end she wins out. She always wins out."

It's quiet for another second before he tilts his head at me and smiles. Without a word Finnick stands, tipping his head at me, and disappearing down a hallway.

He's given me my answer if anything is to happen to Gale. I would carry on. I wouldn't have a choice.

* * *

The train doesn't start to move until the morning. They say we have plenty of gas but we don't go full speed either. They say at the speed we're going it'll take about half the day to get to the Capitol. It doesn't feel like enough time to mentally prepare myself for what's ahead of us.

Peeta and I sit in the hallway outside of Delly's room. Every once in a while he'll squeeze his eyes shut and jerks his head to the side, probably trying to keep his thoughts from suffocating him. I reach over and grab his hand, and then he sighs loudly.

"It's not fair," he finally grunts. I don't think pointing out that none of this is fair will help. "Why do we have to keep losing everyone?"

"Delly's still here," I tell him.

Peeta narrows his eyes at me and says, "Not for long. And then when she's gone Proja might…" he trails off and shakes his head. "Not fair," he repeats angrily. "I hate this." He tilts his head toward me. "You remember when we were little and you and Delly would come into the bakery? You would bring jam and peanut butter in these little jars and Delly would bring napkins and we would make sandwiches for lunch."

I nod, "I remember."

"Why does that feel so _far_ _away_?" I don't think he wants an answer, so I don't give one. I only twist my hand so our fingers lace and squeeze his hand even tighter. "I want to see her," he tells me. "Before she's too far gone. Before it's too late." Without waiting for me to respond he leaps up and knocks on the door, leaving me sitting on the ground. "Proja," Peeta calls. "I just want to see her." There's silence on the other side and Peeta drops his head against the door. "_Please_," he pleads. "I've known her my whole life, Proja, _please_."

Maybe Proja realizes that Peeta and Delly were friends long before they were together, or maybe Proja just can't take the silence anymore, but there's a shuffle on the other side before the door opens.

Proja peeks out, his eyes rimmed with red, and finds his brother at once. "It's just you two?" he asks. His voice is raw, like he's been up all night whispering things to Delly. Peeta glances down at me and then finds Proja again before nodding. "Okay."

Peeta helps me up quickly and we ease into Delly's room, clicking the door shut behind us. Only as I enter do I register that this is the room a tribute would stay in for the Hunger Games. The thought should shake me more than it does, but there are so many startling things I've seen lately I'm left how Finnick said I would be, numb.

Delly's resting on the bed with a cloth over her forehead. Her eyes are closed, but at the noise she opens them. Her arm where the bite was has been wrapped up, and it doesn't appear to be leaking through. When she sees me and Peeta she smiles, turning to face us more. Her hair is fanned out on the pillows behind her, her eyes aren't red yet.

"Hey, guys," she whispers. Peeta flinches, stepping toward her. "Don't worry. If I change Proja said he'd…" she trails off, glancing at the boy who's waiting by the door now. "What's up?"

"How you feeling, Del?" Peeta asks. He drops down to his knees by her bedside and I quickly follow. "Hanging on?"

"Hanging on," she nods. "I don't feel any different, really," she tells us. "I have a fever but… but that's it." I reach out and grab her hand, much like I had with Peeta earlier. "I'm mostly just scared."

"That's okay," I say. It's okay to be scared. "Peeta was just reminding me about when we were little and we'd make peanut butter and jam sandwiches in the bakery. Remember that?"

She chuckles slightly but knits her eyebrows in pain. "We would hide in the storage closet so your mom wouldn't find us, Peet," she laughs. "Remember when we'd use up all the chalk and just draw up and down the road?" Peeta smiles fondly and nods. "Your drawings were always so much better than mine," she tells him. "I was always so jealous."

Peeta then reaches out and covers both mine and Delly's hand with his own. He squeezes once and offers another smile, one so clearly forced and yet he doesn't make it seem so. He lets out a deep breath and whispers, "I love you, Del, Madge. You two are my best friends."

Delly blinks a few times before sniffling. "I love you too," I say, switching my gaze between the two of them. "So much."

Again she sniffles. "You guys should go," she croaks. "I don't want you in here if I—just go."

Without even a goodbye, Proja is rushing us from the room. His eyebrows are knit in pain as he ushers us out the door, his hands shake as he shuts it behind us.

Peeta and I resume sitting on the floor in silence. From the other side of the door we hear muffled sobs.

* * *

_A/N: NO I'M SORRY okAY I AM soRRy. Also y'all think I like killing off Hawthorne's when I DON'T IT JUST HAPPENS. Things to note: if you haven't voted on the poll on my page I would love it if you could! Also: the sequel to Faded Lines is now posted and your thoughts on that would mean a lot to me! Shameless self advertisement. Back to this story, they get to the Capitol next chapter. I wonder what's in store for them there oOo. Stick with me! I warned you this would be a sad story, but it's not over and there are still things to happen. I promise you it'll be okay._


	22. Bouncy Beds

The tunnels to get into the Capitol are open which, to me, isn't a good sign. If the Capitol is a safe place then they should be closed, they should be keeping everyone safe inside the boundaries. I know Gale's thinking the same thing because his face fills with the heaviest of dread. He jerks his head over to the side and gestures for me to follow, leaving Posy and Vick staring out the windows at the walls of the tunnel.

"I don't like this," Gale grunts. He tugs me into the room we slept in last night and closes the door, turning around and running his hands through his hair. "We shouldn't be doing this, it's not safe. I've got a bad feeling."

"Gale," I sigh. I step forward and rest my hand on his arm. He immediately tenses at my touch. Gale glances down at me, his gray eyes dark and concerned. "The other day you were talking about how close we are," I remind him gently. "And now we're here."

"It's not safe," he says again. Gale paces away from me and my hand falls. He continues to run his hand through his hair. "I want you to stay here on the train."

"What?"

"Stay here on the train when we go into the Capitol," he says. "With Posy and Vick. Rory and Prim too, probably. And the younger ones from 4." The confusion must be clear on my face because he steps back toward me, reaching out and tugging me towards him. "We don't know what we're going to find in there," Gale croaks. "I need you to be safe. I need to know that you and the kids are safe."

"No."

"Madge—"

"No, Gale," I repeat sternly. "Whatever's out there I'm going to face it with you." He wants to protest but I latch onto them hem of his shirt. "We're a team. I'm not letting you go alone." A number of things could go wrong. If he were to leave us on the train the chance of us getting stranded here would be much larger. "We're all going. It doesn't make sense to split up now."

His hands carefully slide up my arms before he reaches up to cup my cheeks. He shakes his head. "When'd you get so damn stubborn?" he whispers.

Gale tilts my chin upward and lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me so gently as though he's scared I might break. His lips are warm against mine and for the first time in a long time, I let myself get lost in him. I let him pull my bottom lip into his mouth, I let him taste my tongue. He sighs my name into my mouth and it tingles down my spine. We stumble backwards until running into the wall, my head hitting with a thud. Gale pulls away immediately ready to explode with an apology, but I laugh and reach for him again.

He groans as I tighten my hold behind his neck. His hands drop down and slide over my back before he lifts me into his arms. For a moment I get a glimpse of the old Gale Hawthorne, the boy that would take girls to the slagheap like it was his job. The guy who could make any girls thoughts turn to mush. His lips cover mine again, kissing me with a certain desperation. I clutch his shirt as he breaks from my mouth, burning kisses down my jaw.

"We'll make it out of this," he whispers into my ear. Gale nuzzles into me, his mouth continuing to wreak havoc on my collarbone. "I swear it. And then I'll take you on a real date and we'll never think about any of this shit ever again." Unable to speak I simply nod. "God, I love you." I force his lips up to mine again and capture them quickly. Gale grunts and presses closer. Kiss after kiss. Nothing but him.

A knock on the door startles us but we don't pull apart. Only when we hear Katniss clear her throat does Gale lower me back to the ground. He glances over his shoulder with a sheepish smile, and I chew down on my bottom lip. Katniss's cheeks are red hot but she doesn't relent in her stance.

"We're here," she tells us. "Just thought you should know."

* * *

When Gale and I emerge back into the common room everyone is glancing out the windows. The grandeur of the Capitol is not lost on me, despite how empty everything is. It's glamorous, it's fantastic. As the mayor's daughter I never got to see the Capitol, but in these fleeting moments it's still spectacular.

The buildings are taller than I could have ever imagined, shiny and bright even now. The emptiness of the streets hardly distracts us as we stare out the windows.

"It's beautiful," Posy sighs, leaning forward on her elbows. The look in her eyes is pure awe, she smiles happily. "I want to live here," she tells me.

I smile too, reaching down and brushing her uneven bangs from her face. "Maybe. We'll see." Posy grins and bounces up and down, returning her gaze to the view outside. Oh God, I hope I can make this her home. A better place. A place without fear.

Gale grabs my hand and laces his fingers before giving me a quick squeeze. Though I doubt he'd ever admit it his eyes contain the same type of wonder as everyone else. The Capitol is outstanding. He pulls me toward him and slides his hand around my hip, allowing me to melt into his side, before pressing his lips to my temple.

"I can't believe we made it," Peeta murmurs.

"Can't say I'm happy to see this place again," Haymitch grunts. Finnick chuckles and nods his head in agreement. "Well," the old man continues. "A few of us should go have a look around but there's no use in going all the way in tonight. We wouldn't make it before it got dark, and there's no saying what sort of trouble we'll run into."

Peeta, Gale, Finnick, and the boy Carter all volunteer to go, and within the hour they're off.

I keep Posy and Vick busy by telling them a story. I can't tell if Vick is listening or not because he stares down at the carpet the entire time, digging his nails into it like he's trying to find some bugs. Posy gasps animatedly at all the right parts and giggles when she should. She hugs herself close to me and asks question after question about the tale.

"Do you think mermaids are really real?" Posy wonders. "Why did she have to lose her voice? How did the prince guess her name?" I answer her as best I can and she takes everything I say for the truth. Finally she asks me a question unrelated to the story. "Do you think we will be safe here?"

I pause immediately. Even Vick seems to have stopped his digging. My shoulders lift slightly as I say, "Maybe." Posy wrinkles her nose. She may still be little but she's been through a lot. She wants a real answer. "I don't know Posy," I finally tell her. "I hope so. We won't know until later, though."

This she accepts, tipping her head forward. "You won't leave me, right?"

"Right," I nod.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what," I echo. I reach over and squeeze her knee, and then tilt my head toward Vick. "Neither of you. I'll keep you safe." The little boy glances up at me hesitantly, but the second our eyes meet he looks away. It's a big promise, I know, but it's one I intend to keep. "You guys want to do something fun?"

"There's nothing fun to do," Posy tells me, though her voice is high and excited.

"We can explore," I whisper. I glance around as though it's a secret and lean closer to the two of them. "Want to explore the train?" Posy leaps up immediately and pulls her brother to stand as well. She nods enough for the both of them.

* * *

The first room we find must've belonged to a mentor or an escort because it was _huge_. The bed is big enough to fit eight people, and Posy races over to it immediately. She jumps on top and starts bouncing, giggling hysterically as she springs into the air.

"Come on, Vick!" she calls for her brother. "Jump with me!" The little boy hesitates, but Posy doesn't stop once. She just keeps bouncing and bouncing. "Madge! Come on!"

I look toward Vick and motion to the bed, but again he immediately looks away. Knowing not to push him I let this one go, rushing forward and hurling myself onto the bed as well. Posy giggles like a maniac as I jump too, sending her flying even higher than before.

"Mama never let us jump on the beds," Posy laughs as she falls onto her back. She doesn't get back up. She just lies there, staring at the ceiling. I stop bouncing at once and lower myself down to her, finding the little girl with tears in her eyes. "Mama said we'd hurt ourselves. She always said that we'd hit our heads." I glance over at Vick who's turned a new shade of gray. He's staring at the ground still. Posy's chin quivers as she rolls away from me.

"Posy," I whisper. "It's okay." I stroke her back and listen to her quiet cries. "She's in a better place now," I try.

"She'll be mad we're jumping on the beds," she whimpers.

"No, no, no," I shake my head. I glance at Vick again who shuffles uneasily on his feet. "She didn't want you to hit your heads, remember? This train is way too tall." I gesture to the ceiling and show her how high it is. "You'd never hit your head on the ceiling here. She'd _want_ you to jump."

Posy rolls around to face me, her cheeks stained with tears. "Really? You think so?"

"I know so," I nod. "She'd want you to jump on every single bed on the train."

The little girl wipes her eyes and nods. "Okay. Then we have to do that."

* * *

Room after room the little girl races into, launching herself onto the first bed she finds and jumping as high as she can. Eventually she starts to laugh again too, the noise bright and high and ringing through the air. I try again and again to get Vick to join us but he only stands in the doorway, glancing down at his feet.

It isn't until we're pretty sure we're on the last room that Posy drags Vick to the bed and orders him to jump. "_Please_, Vick!" she pleads. "Do it for Mama! Please, please, please!"

"Posy," I start softly, but before I can even get out another word the little boy climbs onto the bed with his sister.

Posy grins and takes both of his hands, jumping as high as she can. She jumps and jumps until Vick starts too, and then the two of them are high in the air together. Vick's face stretches into a smile, and the sight of it has me froze in place. And then he giggles, the tiny quiet giggle that he always used to have crawls from his throat.

"Madge!" Posy shouts. "Get over here!"

Her voice shocks me from my stupor and I rush to join the two, throwing myself on the bed as well and leaping alongside them. Vick gets an extra high bounce and lets out the brightest laugh I've ever heard before falling down onto the pillows. Posy gets the idea before I do and stops bouncing immediately, reaching down and grabbing a pillow before swinging it at me. I'm so stunned at the contact that I don't react right away.

Posy grins and points at me, calling, "_Get her!_"

Vick grabs a pillow as well, instantly leaping up and swinging it in my direction. He and Posy attack laughing hysterically, laughing just like little kids their age should. They swing and they hit and it takes me a few minutes to get my hands on a pillow as well, mainly using it as a shield to block their assaults and defend myself.

Posy misses a swing at me once and ends up hitting Vick who falls onto the mattress with an _oof_. She ducks down to apologize to him but he catches her off guard, swinging the pillow at his sister and knocking her to the ground as well.

"Hey," Posy frowns, but giggles all the same. "We were after the blonde girl!"

Vick grins and shrugs innocently before returning to me, swinging the pillow in my direction once again. Posy joins in too and all I can hear is laughter, sweet laughter.

"Think that's funny?" I say, throwing my pillow down. I lightly tackle the children to the mattress and wiggle my fingers around, trying to tickle them as best as I can. "Who's laughing now?"

"Madge!" Posy laughs, squirming away and pushing at my arms. "Stop it!"

"That… _tickles_!" Vick squeaks.

Both Posy and I pause at once, my fingers shooting away from Vick as though he's burning. He continues to giggle until nothing but silence fills the room. He glances at his sister, and then at me, and then his cheeks run red. He says nothing but giggles again, and then so does Posy, and then so do I. We laugh for what feels like hours, because in a world like this it might be our last chance.

* * *

The sun has started to set, I can see through the windows of the room we're in, and it's getting gradually darker. Posy and Vick are already asleep, one on my left one on my right. My fingers absentmindedly twirl through both of their hair as I stare at the ceiling, only to be startled at a noise in the doorway.

Gale smiles when he finds me, carefully padding into the room. He kicks off his shoes and peels off his shirt before slipping into bed, careful not to disturb either of his sleeping siblings.

"Long day?" he whispers. I shake my head no, because it really wasn't. It went by much too quickly. "They look beat."

"We spent the day jumping on every bed on the train," I tell him. That causes him to grin. He arches his body over Vick so he can kiss me quickly before resting down again. "And then we had a pillow fight." Gale cocks an eyebrow and glances down at Vick who is snoozing with a light smile on his face. Without speaking a word I know what he's thinking. "Vick, too," I nod.

Gale lets out a shaky laugh and smiles, shaking his head in disbelief. "Incredible," he breathes.

"He even…" I trail off, swallowing back my smile. "He said something." Gale's eyes widen as though he doesn't believe me, but his smile stretches even more. "Hopefully that isn't the best news of the day," I say. "What happened out there?"

"That is most definitely the best news of the day," Gale tells me with a smile. "We didn't find a thing. All the streets are empty. There are some fliers around, a call to the president's house. We're thinking it's a safe house of sorts."

"That's great—"

"But not as good as Vick," Gale grins. He glances down at his younger brother and quickly presses a kiss to his forehead. "We're gonna be okay after all."

* * *

In the morning we pack up our bags and get ready for a venture into the Capitol. Vick is still often caught staring at the ground but I see him smiling more often than before, and that makes me so indescribably happy I can only smile too.

The only reason Finnick is leading us is because he knows the way to the president's house. Not because there will be freaks we have to fight through, not because we have to form a trail. Simply because he knows the way. The feeling of hope is in the air. There is a new dawn. There is a chance.

Before we can even get the door open we hear a scuffling behind us. Proja emerges from the hallway, his face very pale. All of us freeze. I knew that Peeta had spoken with his brother last night but I never heard the consensus of what was going to happen in the morning. We all stare at Proja for a very long time, waiting for someone to say something.

Finally, Peeta's the first to speak. "Is she—"

"Delly's coming with us," Proja cuts him off. The entire group shifts uneasily. "I don't care what any of you say or what you want, she's coming. We can trail behind if it makes it easier but I'm not leaving this train without her."

"Proja," I try. "It'll put more strain on her. Maybe make everything work faster—"

"_No_," he growls. He moves forward a bit and reveals Delly standing alongside him. A few people shuffle away from the pair but I hold my ground. She looks… different. Her eyes are still bright blue, her skin the same shade it's always been. There's a light sheen of sweat on her forehead but it doesn't look like she's dying. It just look like she went to a gym and hasn't had time to cool down yet. "There might be a cure here. Besides, her fever is going down anyway. She feels like she can do it." He turns to the yellow haired girl next to him. "Right, Delly?"

"I don't want to put any of you in danger," she answers. "But I can't just give up." Delly tilts her head toward Proja and smiles. "And he's right. I feel fine, honestly." Proja bends down, pressing his lips to her forehead quickly. "It was really bad the first night. Everything was like Madge said it was with her mom." I wince and Gale reaches for my hand, squeezing tightly. "But it… it's passed."

"That doesn't just pass, Sweetheart," Haymitch murmurs.

"I don't understand it either," Delly continues, disregarding Haymitch's comment entirely. "But you've got to let me try. Right? What if I can get better?"

But the question ringing in my ears is _what if she already is_?

No one tries to stop her from joining us.

* * *

_A/N: I know these last few chapters have been tough on you all, so here's my apology one. Hope you're enjoying the story still, despite all the... well... death... Love you all!_

_ALSO: I don't think I ever posted in my Author's Note but CHECK OUT THE COVER IMAGE! Lily S. Potter made it and I'm absolutely in love, she deserves all the credit in the world. Thank you so much!_


	23. Unnoticed

After raiding the closets on the train and wrapping ourselves in the warmest things we can find, we begin our journey.

It should feel we're getting closure, like everything should be coming to an end. It just feels like another beginning, and hopefully this one isn't as tragic as the last few have been.

Both of my hands are being held, Posy with one and Gale with the other. He runs his thumb down the back of my hand as we walk and I remind myself to breath. I think back to all the kisses we shared the other day and my heart flutters in my chest. There was a time in which Gale said he thought all of this might have been worth it because of me and I objected it, but I think I might understand him at this point. I don't know if I ever would have been able to love him as fully as I do now if we hadn't been through all of _this_ together.

"How much longer until we reach the President's house?" Katniss asks. I spoke with her the other night and her plan is still on. She wants to kill President Snow. She wants to make him pay for all that he's done to all of us. "Hours?"

"We won't be there until later tonight," Finnick answers. "A little before the sun sets."

Though she clearly doesn't like this answer she nods, and then picks up her pace a little bit.

Posy tugs on my hand and I glance down at her. "Will we live here?" she asks me. Gale smiles from next to me, his crooked grin bright. "I like it here everything is big and shiny."

"I hope we can live here, Posy," I nod. She smiles brightly like Gale is and tips her head forward. The truth is we have no idea what we're walking into. If the safe house is up and running then who's to say they won't just turn their back on a few survivors from some crummy Districts? What if they just kill us on sight? "We'll have to wait and see."

As if sensing I'm unsure, Gale's hand tightens in mine. "We'll be okay," he whispers.

* * *

When we stop for lunch I hesitantly make my way over to Delly. The only person she's had to talk to all day is Proja and he seems to be at the end of his rope. I'm not sure how good conversation with him can be at this point.

I walk over and Proja lets me by without question, allowing me to sit near my longtime friend. She looks frail and tired. Like she hasn't really been talking much anyway.

"How're you doing?" I ask.

Delly takes a moment to turn to me and then another to shrug slightly. "I just feel like I didn't get enough sleep last night." She fiddles with the food in her hand – some sort of granola bar that we found on the train – before lowering it to her lap. "I don't know how to explain it, Madge. I know everyone thinks I'm dangerous but I don't feel…" she shakes her head. "It's like I can feel the sickness inside me and it's pulsing through my veins, but it's not there. It's like it's not going to get to my heart or to the surface or wherever it's trying to go."

"I hope it doesn't," I whisper. I hope that Delly has built up walls that the disease cannot penetrate. I hope that she carries on through this somehow until there's a cure. If there's a cure. "Most people it takes over right away," I continue weakly. "And you… you're different than that. Stronger."

She smiles the best she can. Delly was always known as one of the happiest people in our District and I know it's hard for her to smile now. The fact that she still can is amazing. Bright. A bit of sunshine in a city that seems so cold.

"We'll be there soon, right?" she wonders. Her voice is soft, quiet so it won't break.

"I think so."

"Do you think they'll let me in?" Delly asks me. Her blue eyes are filled with the terror she keeps out of her voice. "If they know I'm sick, do you think—"

"We won't let them know," I answer immediately. I know that's not safe, I know that it could potentially put us all in more danger, but I'm not going to leave Delly out of wherever we go. "We'll keep you protected until we know what to do. Okay?"

"Madge—"

"We're not leaving you."

She lifts her gaze upwards as if to stop from crying. "I don't think you get to make those decisions," she whispers. "If it came down to a little girl from District 12 or the rest of the group I think I would lose."

"There's still hope for you Delly," I nearly growl.

Again she smiles. Only just. "You should go."

So I do. I rush away from her as quickly as I can because there's a knot in my throat I can't seem to swallow. I run to the outskirts of the group to collect my breath and blink back my tears but before I can even turn around to go back I feel strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me into a warm chest.

"Madge," Gale whispers. "Shhh, shhh it's okay." His hand strokes my back and suddenly I'm crying into his shirt, squeezing against him as tightly as I can. "Breathe, Madge."

"It's not fair," I croak. His chest muffles my words but he doesn't seem to mind, only holding me closer and twirling his fingers through the ends of my new short hair. "We've lost _so many people_," I continue. I tilt my head so I can breathe and suck in a sharp unsteady breath. "We're so close! She's s-so close and she d-doesn't know if she'll make it." He bends down so his lips are against my forehead. Suddenly the loss of Taftan hits me hard, knocking the breath out of me. My stomach twists and my body shakes and I can't swallow I can't _think_. "I can't lose her too, Gale, I c-can't."

"Breathe," he whispers again.

My parents are gone and Taftan is gone and Gale's parents are gone and Katniss's parents are gone and Peeta's parents are gone and _everyone is gone_. It's just us alone in an empty sparkling city that holds absolutely no promise to any of us. Gone, gone,_ gone. All of them._

"What if we don't find anything?" I whimper.

"Don't."

"What if there's nothing there? What if everything is empty and we—"

"Then we'll try somewhere else," Gale answers immediately. He releases his hold around my back and grabs my cheeks. "We've made it so far, Madge. We've been through hellfire and now we're here and if we have to go through more than so be it but I'm not going to give up. This is it. We're in the homestretch, I can feel it. And if we're not then we find a new path." His thumbs breeze over my jawline as he gazes into my eyes. "We can do this. _You_ can do this."

"I can't," I blurt. Not with everyone being taken. I can't have anyone else taken.

"You can," he says quietly. Gale leans in closer. "What happened to the girl who brought me morphling all those months ago?" I blink, confused at the mention of what once was. "You knew what you were doing was illegal. Was dangerous. You did it anyway."

"That was different, that—"

"Was just another obstacle for you to overcome," Gale finishes for me. "Everything that you've been through, that we've been through, has just been another challenge." His thumbs move carefully over my skin. "This is scary. Absolutely terrifying, dammit I'll admit it. We have no idea what we're about to walk in to. But we're doing it together, like you said we would." Gale leans down and skims his lips over mine. "Delly's going to be okay." He kisses me again. "And so are we." His mouth covers mine once more as he pulls me toward him. One of his hands tangles into my hair and the other pulls on my lip. "I promise. I promise you."

"Gale," I breathe.

He doesn't let me speak again, pressing his lips to mine again and again. He slides his tongue over my bottom lip and grips me tightly as if to say the things his words can't. _I'm sorry for Taftan, the boy who once slipped extra cookies into your bags in the bakery and comforted you when I was the one to make you upset. I'm sorry for Delly, the girl you grew up with and shared peanut butter and jam sandwiches with in the closet of the bakery. I'm sorry for this world. I'm sorry for this mess. _

I force myself away from him and exclaim, "I love you, Gale."

Does he not understand how terrified I am to lose him? That despite his words, his reassurances, I'm terrified one day I'll wake and he'll be gone too? He'll have joined the ranks of the undead, he'll have fallen ill with disease? He'll be taken from me just as everyone else has been? Because I am. I'm terrified and there are no words I can use to explain that.

Suddenly he smiles the most beautiful smile I've ever seen and rests his forehead against mine. Our noses brush. "I love you, too," he whispers. "And we're going to make it out of this." Gale leans down again, his lips only lightly teasing mine. "Our scars have made us stronger," he tells me. "Remember that."

We walk back to the group hand in hand.

* * *

By the time the sun starts setting Finnick tells us that we've still got a few hours to walk. Not wanting to risk it we all pull aside into an abandoned house, and considering all of the houses are abandoned at this point it's pretty easy to find one. Proja takes Delly to a room and shuts the door immediately. We hear a lock click. The rest of us make ourselves comfortable on the floor all in a pile.

Katniss is antsy and Peeta calms her easily, pulling her aside and whispering sweetly in her ear. I swear I see her smile, if only for a moment. He kisses her cheek and laces her hand with his and she finally agrees to take a break.

Greasy Sae finds some cans that are stored in a closet and whips us up a delicious meal over the stove. We all gobble it down hungrily and Posy is the first to ask for seconds. We laugh momentarily before knowing that if we eat too much we'll get sick. In the end Vick falls asleep on the couch and Posy follows shortly after. Gale keeps me close and lets me rest against him as he whispers sweet nothings to me.

_The only reason I charged so much for strawberries was because I knew you loved them so much and would pay anything to get them. If I could get you strawberries now your smile would be enough payment. _

_The other night I had a dream that you and I were walking through the meadow. It was like before any of this had happened and everything was clean. Cleaner than it is now, you know? Your smile was so beautiful, I wish I could've really taken you there. You would've loved the fireflies. _

_You're part of me now, Madge. We're intertwined. If I lost you I'd fray at the edges and no one would be able to tie me back up. _

I fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

* * *

It's a kiss on my jaw that wakes me up. Another one on the edge of my lips that makes me aware that it's morning. One soft kiss on the lips has me alert and ready to kiss back. Gale grins as my eyelids flutter open and I link onto his shirt.

"Morning, sunshine," he murmurs. He kisses me gently and pulls me to sit up. "We're leaving soon. You ready?"

I tip my head forward and yawn. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Good, because Katniss wanted to leave at the crack of dawn."

The morning is hectic as we all scramble to wake up and shove some sort of food down our throats. We wait patiently as Proja comes out from the back room, announcing that Delly is still up for coming with us. The confusion on everyone's face is evident but no one openly says anything. Haymitch makes a face but Katniss elbows him in the stomach before he can speak.

We're on the road barely an hour after it's light out.

Posy has her hand linked with mine and she swings it back and forth, humming some sort of song she tells me her mother used to sing to her. The thought of Hazelle singing a bedtime story at this point gets my stomach in knots again; it's not something that I can picture with a smile yet. The sound of it, however, has Vick smiling and that's enough to let her keep singing.

Despite the sound of Posy's humming there isn't much conversation. When Finnick's booming voice rings loudly out of the blue we all jump.

"Look!" he shouts. His hand extends and points toward something off in the distance. It's tall and ringed, like a way to keep something out. "What is that?"

"Don't be an idiot," Haymitch mutters. "It's a _fence_."

I glance toward Gale out of habit and find his eyes sparkling with something I haven't seen in a long time. Excitement. He glances back at me and smiles, another one of those ones that gets my heart beating in my chest.

A fence. That means something is being kept out. Which means the Capitol really must've established some sort of safe house like those fliers said. My heart may have started picking up pace when Gale smiled but now it's racing, soaring with what could be our haven.

"We'll let's go!" Rory shouts. "That can't be more than a ten minute walk!" He's the first one sprinting.

* * *

The closer we get to the fence the worse things feel. We slow to a stroll after a few paces because of how exhausted and malnourished we are. And the fence… it's… weird. Built like the ones the District used to keep us in but without the electricity. Just sort of… there.

And the people…

"Hey!" Proja shouts. He's a few strides behind us but his voice is loud enough. "Hey! In there!" Everyone inside stops.

They're colored. Bright, like the images on the television that would show the Capitol. Pink hair and blue skin and orange clothing that doesn't match. It should comfort me, but the way they stroll about inside makes my palms sweaty. All their heads cock at precisely the same time. They see us.

_They smell us_.

"No," I gasp. I stumble backwards and drag Posy with me, refusing to let her see.

It all happens so quickly. "Get back!" Haymitch yells at us.

My entire body shakes as I scoop Posy into my arms and turn her away. I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears and shake my head, forcing Posy to look away. No. _No!_ This was our place! This was supposed to be our _safe place_!

I hear them. It has only been a few days since we were in District 10 but I was already so used to the silence. It was preferred to the sound of _this_. The growling. And the groaning. And the moaning. The beckoning pleas that beg me to join them or beg me to let them join us.

They're dead. They're all dead.

"Hey, hey, hey," Gale tugs Vick over to where Posy and I are and reaches up, grabbing my face despite the fact that Posy is in my arms. He forces my chin up until I open my eyes and shakes his head. "Shh, don't." Posy doesn't seem to understand what's happening but she clings tightly to my chest, keeping her eyes shut anyway. Gale kisses my upper lip. "We're not even at the President's house yet," he whispers. Gale kisses me again. "Breathe, there's still hope."

"We, we were just, there's—"

"You're babbling," Gale murmurs. He ushers Vick over and keeps us all within his grasp, constantly glancing over at Rory who's embracing Prim tightly over his shoulder. "It just looks like a containment center, Madge. Like they knew what was going on."

"No, no it can't, we don't _know_, we—"

"Delly's going in," he whispers. I snap to attention and squeeze Posy even closer. "She was standing near the gate next to Proja just looking and they all reached for him, not her. It's like they don't even know she's there. She's going in to see if there's anything—"

"No," I blurt.

Gale hesitates. "You don't have that sort of say, Madge. She's already doing it."

* * *

I pace the outside of the fence and watch their eyes follow me. If they were scary before they're even more terrifying now. Orange eyes stare through my soul, dull pink fingers curl through the fence in my direction.

Gale watches me from a safe distance with Posy and Vick in tow, Rory has settled down by him as well. They talk quietly about something as I march. Back and forth and back and forth, waiting for Delly to reappear.

The Capitol citizens, the freaks, have hollow eyes. They look terrified, like they knew this was happening right as it was and that there was nothing they could do to control it. Or maybe they knew that this was all their fault and it was at this precise moment they realized how royally screwed they all were.

"Madge?" Delly's voice rings out. I leap when I watch her elbowing her way through the discolored freaks. She links her fingers through the fence like they have and the sight is not something that settles me. They pay no attention to her presence, they only see me. "There's nothing in here," she tells me. "Just hundreds of… _them_," she says, looking toward one of the ones that is next to her. "No notebooks or computers or anything. Not even food or beds."

"Will you come out here?" I choke. I don't like seeing her like this. With them. As one of them. "We want to get to the President's house by dark. For real, this time."

Delly nods and mumbles something about waiting a second, and within a few minutes she's able to sneak out a back way where there aren't as many of them. Proja rushes to her immediately and sighs in relief, enveloping her in his arms and kissing all over her face. She smiles warmly at his touch before turning to the rest of the group and relaying the information she just told me.

Instead of cowering like people were when she first came with us after getting off the train, people nod at her words and are clearly thankful for what she tells us. More information is always a good thing, and the fact that there's nothing here for us means there's something somewhere else.

"There's one problem though," Delly murmurs. "If it wasn't clear from out here, that fence isn't sturdy at all." She glances over her shoulder at the thin chain links that separate us from the freaks. "It won't hold much longer."

"What do you mean?" Finnick asks. The fence shakes noisily behind us.

"They want us," Delly says. Almost as if on cue, the fence clatters to the ground with an overwhelming bang. "Now."

* * *

_A/N: How are you liking it? Sorry for such a delay, college life is stressful already and I've been adjusting. Don't worry, I won't back out at this point. The ending is near, my children. I love you all. _


End file.
